


This Side of Paradise

by StarryCorridor



Series: The Other Side of Paradise [1]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: 4th wall madness, Allegory, Alternate Universe, Betrayal, Child Abuse, Childhood, Childhood Memories, Coma, Curses, Dancing, Death, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Guilt, Guns, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury, Inspired by Doki Doki Literature Club!, Inspired by Music, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Military, Minor Original Character(s), Misery, Moving In Together, Murder, Musical Instruments, Obsession, Poor Life Choices, Relationship(s), School, School Dances, Slow Build, Smoking, Some Fluff, Song Lyrics, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Symbolism, Time Travel, Unhealthy Relationships, Violent Thoughts, War, Weapons, song refences
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-07-06 05:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 59,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15879942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryCorridor/pseuds/StarryCorridor
Summary: Two simple men find a baby boy. Needless to say, they are horrible dads.[Origin from Quotev][Paultryck and Tomtord][lots of symbolism,, lots,,, and slow plot progression][I'm new to this! Forgive me for short chapters and bad writing]





	1. Where

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul is stuck in a tree and Patryck wished Cloudbergs weren't a thing.

   "Paul?"

   No response from the other man. Patryck was about ready to lose his goddamn mind.

   "Paul!"

   Even with his shouting, the bushy eyebrowed man still didn't respond to his calls. He had attempted to get in touch with his supervisor, but that only took Patryck strait to disappointment lane when the words "he's just another soldier! Don't worry about your partner, Leader will replace him," hit his ears. What did this man think he was saying? Sometimes, Patryck wished himself and Paul were highly ranked officers, so that they would have more respect and care out on the field. Paul being treated like dirt was was unreasonable and unacceptable, if your soldier was missing, you find him. Leader of all people should know that. The enemy could have him, taking information, assets, hurting him- no. Now was not the time to let himself result to thinking of the worst.

   "Paul! God dammit!"

   He shouted, his throat becoming sore after the endless hours of shouting and searching. Finally; to his fortune, a soft static kicked up over the communication line! The warm voice he had grown familiar to cut its way through.

    "Patryck! I hear you. Where are you?"

   Patryck couldn't help but feel his body melt from the man's voice hitting his ear. So he had been overreacting, he guessed, Paul was still connected. He wasn't to far out of reach. Him and Paul prior to this were flying together for a normal routine trip for their Supervisor. One of their look outs needed supplies, so Paul and Patryck were tasked with delivery. With their luck, him and Patryck had hit a type of cloud that Paul had joked about when they first met to be a 'cloudberg.' Patryck had jumped on time, but he was unsure about his boyfriend.

   "-ryck! Are you there?" Paul's voice shouted in a bit of distress, "I'm hurt. I just barely made it out. My leg got caught in a tree.. and I can't move." He could hear the voice of the other soldier echo around him.

      Right. He needs to find Paul and fast. To his dismay, just as his hopes to get out of this were high, his communications and other tools errored out, and lost power. He was just gaining the small amounts of hope he needed too. As he trucked on through the plane wreak, luck was in his favor when his eyes finally landed on Paul- stuck by his leg in a tall tree. The taller soldier sighed in distress, he couldn't believe now of all days this was happening.

-◇-

   He had always thought sleeping under the stars with Patryck is a dream come true, and Patryck himself would agree. But this wasn't how they planned that dream would be. Resting in the dirt, in the ruins of an army plane, with Paul's leg in a makeshift brace, and Patryck struggling to start a fire for the night. They would start collecting remaining supplies from the plane in the morning. Then head out with whatever they had left until they were found or at least searched for. If Patryck would of saved the power of his comms, he could have had aid sooner. Well, maybe not aid from his supervisor, but at least aid from someone Paul and Patryck had worked with.

   Paul began to let his mind drift as he shifted to get a better angle of Patryck, staring calmly at how the man moved and adjusted to different positions to attempt starting a fire. He remembered spent nights back in their quarters, clothes dropped, bodies tangled, mouths glued to each other- "Got it! See, I'm not as washed up as they say I am." Paul snapping himself back into reality just as the sparks caught up into a flame. Maybe this was a bad time to think about their old times.

   "Good job, Pat. But can we focus more on er.. where we are?" Paul thought it would be a nice conversation starter, but that had appeared to only make Patryck seem more distressed. He didn't reply, he had just sulked his way over to his lover and sat down. Taking off his grey uniformed jacket and throwing it over the couple's shoulders. Paul was respectful and didn't push onto it, and just let Patryck take his time to calm down. As Patryck fell limp against the shorter man, Paul noted to never again bring up that type of question when lost. It would only trigger horrible memories of that fateful day.

-◇-

   "Patryck," he whispered trying not to startle the other soldier, "it's morning. We need to start gathering supplies and get going. We won't last long out here if we don't." He did expect what Patryck did next, and that was casually groan and roll over onto his side. Facing away from Paul to ignore the noise. "Oh come on, Pat!" This was getting annoying. He was used to Patryck being sluggish in the morning, but neither of them had the time to sit around and goof off. Well, he couldn't really walk very well himself, so as of right now he relied on Patryck to aid him on basically everything. Hey, there was only so much a man could do when he can't walk. He could just crawl around and attempt to collect supplies that way, but that would result in one very inflamed Patryck. Though it would of been Patryck's fault for him attempting that in the first place he figured that it would be best not to anger the man.

   It was a tad over a hour and a half later when Patryck shuffled to his feet again, grumbling about how much he despised mornings. Paul just watched the man fix himself, brushing out dirt and other such things from his hair. Watching Patryck's face turn up in distaste. It was noticeable to Paul that Patryck would kill for a shower right now. He noticed Patryck felt gross, even if he didn't look like it. The two had slept on a blanket that had been partially burned, and the ashes from it rubbed off onto their uniforms and their bodies. Paul's hands were red and stinging from trying to rustle with a tree- god could he stop that already? Paul knew he had Patryck, and that was the only will to live that he needed. He remembered day one, being assigned Patryck as a partner and seeing the faces he would make at Paul's stories.

   "No person on this planet has ever seen an alien, Paul. There is no proof."

   "I'll take you to the stars one day and show you! I swear. I'll put it on my damn grave, Patryck."

   "I'll hold you to that."

   The snapping of twigs broke him back into reality, staring up at the star of his life with a smile. "Hey handsome." Paul snorted with joking finger guns. Any small attempt to flirt, he went for it. But this time, Patryck didn't reply, and Paul felt himself sink, closing his eyes and lying against the metal panel behind him. But the soft press against his lips drew a grin from him. He wasn't losing his touch just yet.

-◇-

   Collecting the supplies from the plane was more of a blessing than the two would of ever asked for. At least they had something, so it would be immoral to complain about the small luxuries that the ruins had to offer. Patryck afterwards decided to sit down and write out in a list what all they had collected, so they can keep track of what they had on them.  
-One tent  
-3 Blankets (one being the charred one)  
-Two backpacks (one blue, the other red)  
-One slightly cracked mirror  
-One.. strange device  
-One first aid kit (the remaining few went into Paul's leg, which felt better now)  
-One pillow (the others were burned or ripped)  
-One silver flask  
-Two silver water canteens  
-Three boxes of cigarettes(To Patryck's distaste, Paul burnt through a few before the crash and one box after)  
-Several zip lock bags  
-A bag full of unsorted batteries  
-One empty journal  
-One survival knife(luckily with flint stored with it, Patryck cried of happiness at this)  
-A few packs of ammo  
-Two guns  
-One blue ink pen  
-Multiple pairs of shirts (9)  
-Multiple pairs of pants (7)  
-One green pair of shoes

   Not two bad of a list, now that Paul had a look at it. Maybe he was just used to having food always there. Apparently, the plane hadn't been stocked with any. The supplies that it had carried were mostly cottons or woods that had burned up or were scattered around. Some things were just to badly damaged for Patryck to allow to come with. Like the hoodie- wait. Where was it? Why wasn't on the list. Taking the pen into his hands, he slowly added his missing treasure onto the list.

-One, bright red, undamaged, pull over hoodie

   He remembered first finding the hoodie along with the other clothes that they had found. It was the only thing entirely unharmed, and hell, it still looked brand new. How this hoodie got mixed in with all the grey uniforms, was unknown to him. He didn't seem to care much either, he found it a treasure and it was coming with him.

   "Paul, are you serious? You aren't bringing that thing with us." Patryck's voice picked up from behind him, the face of distaste and displeasure showing, but Paul brushed him off and looked back over the list. "Paul!" He heard his voice behind him, and saw a hand grip his. "Are you okay?" and as the air fell still, both men shrunk.

   Paul calmly looked to the taller man, frowning visibly at first, but shaking it off and smiling at his boyfriend. This was a silly bicker, and it didn't matter. Neither of them should be focusing on it anyways. Pick and choose your battles, Paul, this one isn't worth arguing. "I'm alright, I'm just still a little tossed up from the crash with the Cloudberg. I'll be fine." With that he placed a soft peck on Patryck's nose, who only slouched more in defeat. He wasn't happy with what Paul said but he seemed to accept it and carry on. Patryck noted to himself to not bring up the topic again, knowing Paul, he would dodge the question every time.

   The two shared glaces for a moment before taking their venture off. Gathering up the supplies into the bags, and tossing them onto their backs. After the double check, Paul made it in his best efforts to protect the red hoodie from Patryck. Who seemed to despise the thing.

   "It's revolting."

   "It's clean."

   "It came out of nowhere! Leader never issued red hoodies or anything colored for that matter!"

   Now that was a point Paul didn't know how to bat. He didn't know that was why Patryck was so scared of the hoodie, because it was a mystery on its own. He assumed it fit in the pile with the strange device that the two had found earlier, but that he brushed off his shoulder. He remembered trying to sit and study the strange device, red symbol on it throwing him for a complete loop. This wasn't the symbol of their army, it was.. something else. Maybe a signature. Pushing the device out of his mind, Paul laughed and gave his boy yet another smile.

   "Just another reason to love it more! Mystery is a thrill, I remember telling you that when you were first hired." Paul gestured softly by waving his hand almost in dismissal. "You were so afraid of where you would end up. It was cute." There was pretty much one person that Paul ever acted differently to from the start, and that just so happened to be Patryck. Paul usually was that type no never, and may it be repeated, never looked after anyone other than himself. It was that day Patryck walked into his life he had a change of heart for someone. Not even a stone cold man could resist a pretty face like that.

   "You're- we're-..." Achievement unlocked, pull Patryck to nothing but a few words one million times. Paul enjoyed this, how small compliments would light up the gentle giant like it was absolutely everything. Like he's a starving puppy that never ate food before. "Ah, anyway. I think we've landed on the boarder of Finland and Sweden. We could cross over to Norway and cross the North. We can't really just hitch a flight.. we're criminals working with Leader. Ugh.. We could really use a compass- Paul! What the f-"

   The shorter man shifted to the dirt, and quickly fixed up a little device. Shushing Patryck when he first began to work on his activity. When he finished, he stood up and brushed himself off. Like doing that mattered much anyway. "Makeshift compass! Pleasure of your loving, and thoughtful, boyfriend Paul!" He pulled the red backpack back ontop himself, grinning widely at his effort to make Patryck smile. When it worked, he loved his rewarding kiss. Patryck instantly going to work on locations and how far they would need to travel to get to Norway. The two more than ready to begin their travel.

-◇-

   Each day was the same thing, waking up, moving, sleeping, and Repeat. Patryck was growing so tired of this. He just wanted to get home, take his punishment from leader, and carry on. But.. one day, something happened that made this whole thing a little brighter.

   His voice was frantic, stilled with anxiety "Paul! Put me down! This isn't funny! It's embarrassing!" The other seemed to laugh at his Lovers distress, kissing the man's forehead then promptly putting him down.

   "Fine fine, but I'm going in." Paul teasingly pushed Patryck as he walked forward, smiling at the cliff edge. The two had been tired and have been traveling for days, and just recently the two had stumbled upon a cliff edge that overlooked a decently large lake. The water at the bottom deep enough to take a plunge and be fine. That was exactly what Paul planned to do, and Patryck wasn't having any of it.  
     
   "No you will not!"

   Patryck watched the man walk, step by step to the edge, the shorter one taking off his jacket and other such gear until only down to pants and a plain white shirt. Flashing a grin back at his boyfriend, he jumped, his body disappearing behind the edge. Patryck stumbled to his feet and made a beeline to the edge, seeing Paul splash into the water below, only to appear a while later laughing and smiling. Waving at Patryck from below.

   Somehow, just somehow, later that night, both Paul and Patryck's clothes washed up on the shore..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a question? Send it to my tumblr, @stars-of-the-corridor
> 
> this is future me telling you ALL platforms are now all on the same chapters! Ily!   
> -Pilot


	2. Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's a ragged boy, and all he has is us.  
> Our oath and our vow,  
> we will fight to the death in his name.

  After nights and nights of waking up, hurting, traveling, sleeping, their golden target finally hit their eyes. "Look! Paul! Civilization! I hear cars! I can't believe it! Paaaaaaaaauuuuuuuul!" Patryck dragged on the man's name with excitement, stars shining in the man's eyes. "You don't understand how lucky and blessed we are right now!" He couldn't easily contain himself, hell, how long has it been since he's seen a person other than Paul. Not like he didn't mind Paul's company, but having it just be the two of them made the world seem so large and lonely. "I'll finally get a damn shower!"

  Paul let himself laugh, smiling at the other's excitement. "Alright now, calm down." He took another quick drag from his cigarette before stomping it out in the dirt. He had been shockingly well at keeping a balance of his smoking to conserve them. He seemed to even please Patryck by cutting back, seeing how the man always cared for his health and well being. "Alright, Pretty Boy, lead the way."  

  With that, Patryck couldn't help himself as he took Paul's hand and ran, smiling as the two went on their way. His whole body wasn't even prepared for how the sidewalks felt when he first landed. He was used to the uneven and soft forest grounds. To say Patryck was excited was an understatement. He was jumping around like a damn school boy, and the deeper they went into the small town, they found themselves in a small city. What city? That didn't matter, as long as it had stores or business, Patryck would be content and happy.

  "Paul! Look! Actual people!"

  "Am I not a person?"

  "I-"

  "Hey ah, are.. you two lost?" A voice spoke up, the soft spanish accent catching them off guard, the two men instantly turning to face her. "You two don't look like you've washed in days." The woman was rather short, and held a small bag of goods in her arms. "I'm not a local or anything but.. I am visiting with friends. I'm sure they wouldn't mind lending you some food and a shower."

  Paul and Patryck stared at the woman in disbelief, instantly accepting her offer. They knew they didn't really need her, just a quick place to freshen up. "Oh thank you! We've been stuck without luxury for days.. maybe months? Paul? Have we kept any track?"

  "No."

  "Wait," the woman stopped for a moment, "months? What happened?"

  To the two of them, this was a fearful question, so Paul almost instantly came up with a lie for his boyfriend's sake. "We were camping in Finland and got lost. Badly lost. We can't charge any devices to call for help so we walked several hundred miles to here." At this the woman was quiet, staring at them in disbelief.

  "Where did you come from?"

  "Norway.. but we both lived in Poland prior." Liar. He wasn't just going to tell her exactly where they came from, that would be to much information. At least one part was true. Paul honestly didn't care, he just wanted to get Patryck to safety. It didn't matter to Paul that his boyfriend was a fully independent soldier, able to manage himself and some. So his lie didn't come out so hard after he had weighed his options.  The woman seemed to believe this, smiling softly and leading them along. "I'm.. actually American. Well, I was born there, we moved back to Spain when I was 15. I've been to Norway though, it's a nice place. My son loves traveling."

  Son? Eh, whatever. Well, they didn't really live in Norway, they were just trying to find ways to get there. They didn't know of what they would do from there.

  "Stupid question but... we need to ah, charge our phones."

  Paul seemed confused, looking at Patryck with wide, confused eyes. It took a moment before he would understand what Patryck was trying to put across.

  "That shouldn't be a problem! Do you have chargers?" both men nodded in her reply, with that she clapped her hands and grinned. "Lovely!"

  The woman kept on her walk and kept rambling about her life, eventually slipping into Spanish, which neither of the men understood or knew. When she arrived to the house they were to spend their night in, the two were more than thankful for the woman's generosity and even reminded her how thankful they were.

  The inside of the house was quite simple, a couch on the far back wall, behind that appeared to be an opening which showed into a kitchen. In front of the couch, was a small tv with the news currently playing. News about their army most likely, they assumed this because Leader's name happened to be mentioned several times. The woman seemed to huff at this, instantly turning the TV off. "Horrible, I tell you! Can you believe it. This 'Leader' feels like he is entitled to it all! He's hurting people for personal gain! I hear he doesn't care for his soldiers. What kind of leader is like that?" Her tone only became harsher by the end, "they're going to fall without good leadership."

  "I take it you don't like fighting." Paul shoved his hands into his pockets, his expression shifting slightly to discomfort. Patryck just looked away from the two and coughed lightly, only making it more awkward. They both were still in their uniforms. Maybe she had overlooked this fact, but just wait for it to settle in..

  "Wait." There it is.. "Those outfits are.."

  Paul felt his heart shrivel when Patryck moved a hand into his coat. He wasn't hoping for this. But it had to happen.

  "Our army thanks you for your kindness." The taller one spoke, smiling as the woman's face turned to pure terror.

  "N-no! Wait please!"

  After the shot rang, and the grey walls were tinted red, Paul quickly got himself and Patryck back online. Only quickly glancing at a picture of the woman with a small boy in her lap, a name written under the boy.

  "Eduardo," he mumbled, "damn."

  "Paul! I got in contact with our supervisor.. He said if we are already heading to Norway, that they can pick us up from there! We'd be heading south, though." Patryck seemed accomplished with his work, puffing out his chest as if to show off. "Also... raid?"

  Paul was quiet for a moment as he stood to look at the picture, the dead woman, and then the look on Patryck's face. It was odd, how the two could kill like it was nothing, yet the two meant everything to each other. Losing one was like cutting off the other's limb. "Yeah, hurry too. I don't want any trouble on our tail."

-◇-

  Getting back on the road was a much harder feat than the two actually wanted it to be. Sneaking out around neighbors who were freaking about the gunshot and police that were currently outside the front. Luckily for Paul and Patryck, they made it out with hardly any more bloodshed. Not like they didn't enjoy the thrill their guns gave, but for right now they wanted to keep as low as a profile as possible as they passed into Norway.

  Which, also was one of the easiest feats the two had ever done or came across. Despite the Swedish police on watch..

  Norway was actually a pretty nice place, with a pretty nice culture. Passing cities and watching it from a far, neither would complain about it. It seemed.. nice. Well, from an outsiders view. Paul and Patryck really hadn't been on the news much, so neither knew to much on what their political class was here. They just knew that Norway was an enjoyable place for the both of them. As long as they were near buildings.. and people.

  "I'd like to have Norwegian friend. Honestly. Their accent is neat." Patryck caught himself right as he finished talking, clutching his stomach and letting out a calm laugh. "Oh god, I sound racist. Do I?" With Paul's odd glace in his direction, he took it as a fact that the man didn't really care that much. "Yeah.. sorry."

  "I like the accents.. imagine that being our kid, that would be extremely adorable." He choked. He didn't just.. oh.

  "Our? You thought of raising a child, with me? Paul..."

-◇-

  It had been 18 days since they made it out of Sweden and slowly making their way down southern Norway. Traveling through cities, small towns, fields, forests, you name it. Paul had burned through his packs of cigarettes, and was slowly starting to lose his mind.

  "We need some kind of currency."

  "They call it krone, Paul." The taller man snorted, adjusting the backpack on his back.

    "Tomato," Paul said extending one arm in one direction, "Tamato," he finished. Extending his arm in the other direction.

  "You're an idiot."

  Yeah, maybe Patryck was right, but with a soft scoff, that wasn't going to stop him. He found himself stepping into another small Norwegian city, looking around. Patryck didn't follow, he just huffed calmly, curling into a small ball inside of the red hoodie that Paul had dragged along. Hey, it was a good replacement for the bloody grey jacket that he had been wearing for god knows how long. It wasn't even a short time afterwards that Paul had returned, krone in hand. How he got a hold of it, Patryck would never ask. It didn't matter to him, he just smiled and shook his head. When a hand was offered to him, he took it and felt himself be pulled to his feet into a kiss. Typical Paul.

  "You're pretty, you know. My handsome boyfriend. I love you."

  "What did you break this time."

  "... nothing."

  It was quiet between the two for a moment, before laughter followed. Paul kept his story short, and Patryck hardly picked up any of the details, he was a bit to focused on his surroundings. Just incase Paul fucked up a little.. to much. The shorter one eventually found himself a small market, and he gathered up the supplies they needed before hitting the road once more. Mostly, more cigarettes. Which Paul was more than excited to see.

  "Back on the damn road again," he felt himself dragging and somehow Patryck could only stand this feeling for so long, "How long has it been since the crash? I feel as if we've been on these paths for a year. You can't tell me you disagree."

  "Yeah, no. Maybe a little over half a month since Sweden, and maybe two months since Finland." The soft huff he heard from behind him wasn't as assuring as he would of liked it to be. "Now Patryck listen, I understand-"

  "Paul. Be quiet."

  Oh no, he wasn't going to put up with this shit, "excuse me? Really-"

  "Shut up!" Patryck snapped as the two went dead quiet, and then it hit his ears. Crying. Something or someone had been crying. Someone else was out there. "Do you hear that?" It almost sounded like.. a child? It alerted both men almost instantly, both looking around in every way to get a since of what was going on, and where it was coming from. When the taller man pulled his information together, he grabbed Paul and ran. The crying only getting louder and louder, and there, finally, the source..

  Both men had found themself at a clearing, pushing bushes and such out of their way and other such to see what the distress was coming from. Who they saw, didn't surprise them, it was the state the source was in.

  It was a boy. A small, baby boy.

  "Hallo?" a little boy's soft, strained and choked voice called. Alerted by the soft ruffling of the nature around him. He seemed terrifyed when Paul and Patryck showed themself to the crying boy.

  He was short, norwegian, with pale skin, hair colored strawberry blonde with two.. horn like hair spikes on the top of his head. His shirt was dirty, torn and ripped up, his pants in a similar state. Parts of his arms were bloodied and bruised. Small cuts leading up and down. In all honesty.. he didn't seem that old. He was maybe just coming onto four.

  "Hey.. little guy. I'm Patryck. This is my boyfriend, Paul. We aren't going to hurt you."

  "Skummelt!" the boy cried. "Nei nei!" At this he tried to take to his feet and run. His attempt failing him in the long run. Poor guy didn't expect to have his arms grabbed so suddenly, and his entire body to be pulled back into a tight grasp. He looked up at the man with bushy eyebrows and began to cry. Mumbling nonsense that neither Paul or Patryck could understand.

  "Paul, we can't take him back to his home. He saw us."

  "So.. you mentioned wanting Norwegian kid."

  "...This is not what I meant!"

-◇-

  After hours of crying, the small boy hushed and curled into Paul's arms. Quietly pouting every once in a while when he felt Patryck softly stroke his hair. Both men had fixed the small boy into the red hoodie for how, using it as a blanket to keep him warm. It was strange how.. fitting of a color this was for the boy. Since the boy didn't appear to know his own name that well, they called him "Red." Neither could understand each other, so Paul used whatever paper he had on him to draw pictures to Red would understand what they were asking for. Red tried to reply in drawings, but it appeared to the two of them that Red.. wasn't the best artist. Possibly never would be.

  "Red." The boy looked up, eyeing Patryck with wide eyes, and it was at this point Patryck realized his eyes were.. beautiful. Golden colors instantly streaked his eyes. Red's eyes were golden. Not a classic dark yellow that appeared gold, a metallic gold that sparkled in the light. God, he really was a beautiful child. Where ever Red had came from, it didn't matter. "Picture?" Patryck smiled as he drew quickly soon lifting up a small picture. It was a few stick figures that looked like Paul(large eyebrows, and short), Patryck(tall, smaller eyebrows) and a small red stick figure that Red thought was himself. All pointing in a leaving direction. Red blinked at this for a while and ran his tiny hands through his strawberry blonde hair.

  "Forlater?" The boy piped up, and grinned. He seemed excited and began running around Patryck happily. Shouting something that possibly wasn't even proper Norwegian. Regardless, it was adorable and dare he say pure. For a moment, he forgot everything. Not letting the realization of the boy's situation dawn on him until now. Leader would never allow a child to stay in their ranks. Even if he had, how would that inflict Red? The panic began to settle at this point. He felt the soft fiber of the papdr crumble and tear at his fingers and the sounds aroud his head barking at him for what he is going to put this beautiful baby boy into- "Patryck?" Right. At least the boy learned his name. This pulled him out of his trance as he pushed to his feet, pulling Red into his arms and sighing. Red himself squirmed a bit but eventually surrendered and let himself be cuddled.

  "I'm sorry," Paul snorted, walking up to two as crossing his arms with a slight snort, "am I interrupting something?"

  Red picked up his head off Patryck's chest and just stared blankly at Paul, "Hallo." His voice eventually squeaked, Paul only smiled and knelt down aside his boyfriend and the small boy.

  "What a sight. Gold eyes? I thought they were brown. He's a looker, isn't he? Huh? A handsome little lad." Paul gave Red a smile, moving a hand to ruffle the strawberry blonde hair. To his surprise, as soon as he pulled his hand away the two spikes of hair had shot up almost instantly. "Huh, I wonder if his hair will always be like that."

  Patryck nodded af this, and just shifted softly with Red still in his arms. He freed himself an arm, and used it to pull Red's attention back to him by placing fingers under the small boys chin and slowly moving his head. Watching the gold eyes move to him. "Maybe. I wonder if his eyes will too.. they are really adorable. Honestly."

  With a sigh, Patryck pushed himself up, putting Red down as he went. It was times like this Patryck felt like a giant compared to everyone. Staring down at small boy as if Red was an ant. It was cute honestly, because in return Red was staring up at him with wide, curious eyes. There's something he'll miss if this boy grows to be any taller than him, he'll never again see those golden eyes hit the sunlight like this.

  "Well, good news Pat, we're almost to the pickup sight. Thank god our camp in Norway was marked for supplies or we would of never been picked up-"

  "Paul.."

  "It's luck! Ain't it? Well, at least you put it that way. Usually."

  "Paul, that camp was sent supplies two days before our crash.. and weren't allowed more until next year. Either we've been traveling for a year or-"

  "-Someone set it up?"  
"-They lied- I-"

  Nope, no. Patryck wasn't willing to climb back onto that train of thought. He just grumbled, gathering his supplies, picking up Red once more, and carrying the boy off. Paul didn't speak for the remainder of the trip. He had just went back to his usual 'defend the boyfriend' task he had taken up at the start of their venture.

  It wasn't too long before they found their camp, familiar faces welcoming the two. As usual, carrying through securities. One can't just open the doors to two soldiers just because one knew them. They were searched(that included Red, after the two explained why they had the small norwegian boy), cleaned, and even tested to make sure they were who they said.

  It was another hour before the three were finished. Some soldiers on their free time coming over to get a quick look at Red. Paul and Patryck assumed with this they could pull away for a bit, so both trusted the soldiers here and almost left until the small boy called at them.

  "Nei nei nei- Min venn! Holde seg!" The boy was squirming away from the soldiers and managed to find himself tangled between Paul and Patryck. Both would be lying if they said they weren't flattered by the boy's attachment. They had saved him, after all. Red had curled himself into a small ball between the two, tearing up slightly and letting out small pouts.

  "Aw, poor little guy, I think we scared him!" One soldier laughed, looking at Paul with a slight tilt of his head. "So.. what's his name?" The two honestly didn't know how to reply to this question, they hadn't really named him. They just nicknamed him Red and carried on. Paul eventually told them this and the soldier laughed in reply. "Aw, so he's our little Red in all this grey? Huh, Red?"

  For the boy, as the people around him pointed at him and called him the name, something clicked, and he squeaked something that caught them off guard. At first, Red noticed they didn't hear his small voice, so after they hushed, Red spoke up again. This time, pulling mant confused looks.

  "Tord!"

  "What?" Patryck yelped, looking down at the tiny red figure. He took a knee next to the small boy. "'Tord?'" He said, pointing at Red's chest.

  "Ja!" The strawberry blonde nodded swiftly. "Tord!" He grinned, finding his arm in the red hoodie and freed it, using a finger to point at himself.

  "Tord," Patryck let the name slip into his mind, and watched it attach. It clicked beautifully for the boy. "I like it." At this he stood back up, and pulled little Tord back into his arms. Watching the boy's golden eyes light up again when his name was said and passed around. Patryck noted to himself that Tord liked to be known.

  Tord. Tord..

  Paul and Patryck's little boy, with strawberry blonde hair and golden eyes.

  Paul and Patryck made an silent oath at that night. That oath and promise to protect Tord no matter the price, even if that price was their own lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im updating every day until this is caught up w the other story, so keep an eye out for that  
> also time flies at a fast pace but as Tord gets older it gets much slower as it becomes less repetitive  
> thanks for reading!  
> -Pilot


	3. Learning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul is jealous Tord can throw knifes and not cut off half an eyebrow.

    Tord seemed to be adjusting just fine for a 3 year old who was suddenly thrown into the middle of a military operation. Most adults wouldn't handle the commotion going on around and would end up committing suicide early on in their career. It was a shame honestly, only if Leader knew how to manage himself in order to keep track of his ranks. Maybe if they had an actual functioning leader... eh, Paul once remembered Patryck wanted a pony when he was little. He himself wanted a Camaro. Not everyone can get what they want and wish for, and that was just how life ran.

    At least that life was getting a bit better now. Even if Leader wouldn't want Tord kept alive for whatever reason, the small boy made a lot of struggles easier for the couple so far. Hell, Tord even seemed to be getting along with the soldiers that currently rested with them in the Norwegian camp. Every time the strawberry blonde walked past, he gave them small smiles and sometimes even hugs if someone was in distress enough. That soon stopped through, and turned into soft pats on the back. Maybe Tord wasn't one for prolonged loving interaction? That or maybe hugging so many strangers that he would suddenly stop seeing was taking a toll on him. Patryck made it a goal to make sure the only people Tord was around were people we would see consistently rather than once. He'd rather not explain war and death to a toddler who hardly spoke English anyways. It was becoming clear that Tord was catching on fast, though. His little Norwegian accent still not dying. Honestly, that made Patryck more happy than anything.

    "Alright, Tord," Paul adjusted, spitting his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out, "Pat's goina hate me for this, but if Leader is goina' keep you, you gotta learn somethin'." Paul put a decently large bag onto the floor between himself and the small boy. Tord's golden eyes filling with wonder when he watched his new caretaker open the bag.

    "Hva?" Tord replied, coming closer to inspect the contents.

        "Also, you're really goina' need to learn english, kid. You'll.. hopefully pick it up- hey! Ya little runt!" Paul snapped, now noticing Tord had found himself a new toy.

    Well, a knife, actually.

    Tord seemed to be having fun with it up until he cut himself, which only caused Paul to laugh in response. "See," he commented, grabbing the boys hand and showing him the cut, "Pain. Hurt."

    "Herp- Hurp- hurk- hurt. Hurt! Hurt."

    The smile that hit Paul's face was unimaginable. He instantly picked up Tord, leaving the knife and the bag behind to seek out Patryck. Then he finally found the man..

    .. and now that smile he had was gone.

    Patryck was in a complete state of disbelief, more in the sense of wanting to kill Paul for how stupid he was. "Babe, you're meaning to tell me his first english word was 'hurt'? Because you let him play with a knife? Tord could of killed himself!" His panicked ramble lasted the group less than a few minutes before Patryck sat down to let himself breathe. Paul made sure to keep Tord quiet as the taller soldier calmed down.

    He tried to speak, but he couldn't think of what to say. Maybe it was best if he didn't speak at all, he figured. He just stood still, with the small, scared strawberry blonde boy in his arms.

    "Hell.. I'm sorry, Paul I.." Dammit. He couldn't form his words anymore, he realized he had overreacted and spooked not only Tord, but Paul as well. "He.. needs to learn if he's going to live here. You.. had good intentions. I don't know what came over me."

    The shorter man smiled at this, and set Tord down to shift over to Patryck to give his boyfriend a loving hug. He didn't say anything, but Patryck seemed to have gotten the message and curled against the man for comfort. The taller man glanced over at Tord, who sat on the floor staring up at the couple with large golden eyes. Eventually Patryck pulled away and shuffled to the boy, pulling Tord back into his arms.

    "How about I join you and Paul?' Patryck smiled, ruffling the boy's hair. It was strange for how his hair was styled, for it to be so soft. "That should be fun, right, Tord?" He could tell the boy didn't understand what he was saying, but he understood that with time he eventually would come around. "Okay?" He dragged on, nodding slowly. Which, the small boy seemed to understand.

    "Oyay- okey!"

-◇-

    To see a little boy fight perfectly with a knife or hit a target dead on with a throwing knife wasn't what the two men had expected. Everywhere on the target that the two men directed the boy to hit, was nearly perfect. Patryck was almost always commenting on how the boy was a fast learner, and he was right. Tord was showing this through his small bits of English, too. He couldn't write, period. But that all could come later on. Not all kids learn to write at the age of 3- well, whatever age Tord happened to be. He was a tad bit little to write though.

    Now that just made perfect sense, didn't it? Teach a kid how to fight before teaching him to write? Well, fighting was easier.. for that matter. Huh, he might just start working on writing. Maybe..

    "I did! I did!" clearly, the small boy didn't know the word 'it.'

    "Yeah," Paul glanced, seeing the boy hit dead on target once more, "good job kiddo."

    "Du proud?" He questioned, tilting his head and giving the bushy eyebrowed man wide, curious eyes.

    "You, not du. You. Like you are Tord."

    "You!" He cheered happily. "You proud?" He seemed to excited to be able to ask this question, and his excitement only peaked more when the man nodded calmly at the boy.

    Paul watched the small boy play more with the knifes he was given, hey, Paul would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous. It was clear to him and anyone who saw this that either Tord was a natural born fighter or was just a fast learner(as Patryck liked to say). Leader just might accept this boy after all. Not just for the skill he had with the knives, but maybe the concept of how Tord was able to pick up anything at such a young age and learn.

    "Tord," Paul adjusted himself before sitting up comfortably, saying the boy's name with little effort. Tord responded anyways, and slipped on over.

    "Ja?" Tord watched as the man put a weirdly shaped stick into his hand, and grabbed one himself out of the bag he had earlier along with a thin sheet. "Pa?" He couldn't quite say Paul, so it always came out as 'pa.' Not like Paul minded, it was honestly quite cute. He couldn't quite say Patryck's name either, so in all honesty it came out more like 'Payck.'

    Paul looked at the kid for a moment, and adjusted the pencil in the boy's hand. Maybe this was way too early as he thought about earlier, but he wanted to see if Tord was just an usually gifted learner or was it just something else. Paul after he situated the pencil into Tord's hand, picked up the boy and pulled Tord into his lap. As well as pulling out a flat surface to write on (small notebook that was entirely filled with Patryck's notes, he noted to buy Patryck another one later.) He took his own pencil, and slowly wrote a T and a lowercase T on the paper. Just as he expected, this only gained him a weird stare from Tord.

    "Come on Kid," Paul pressured slightly as he put down his own pencil and calmly took a hold of Tord's hand. He moved and adjusted Tord until he was able to reach the paper, and still held his hand as he guided Tord through writing. Tord seemed to finally understand after the 3rd time of writing Tt on the paper, and finally did it himself. It was a sloppy job, but Tord's eyes lit up with excitement. Paul took this as a good sign as he moved onto the next few letters.

    It was another hour before several papers will filled with the four letters. The final paper Paul used for the day had been the boy's final attempt at writing out what he learned in order to show Patryck. Paul noted that Tord was heavily excited to show off his hard work to the taller soldier. His shaky little hands spelled the four letters onto the paper, and threw the pencil up with his arms in pure joy. Honestly, Paul had never seen a boy so innocent in his life. The thought almost distracted him before he felt small hands pull on his shirt, attempting to pull him away to go find Patryck.

    "Alright alright, I'm coming," he commented to the boy's attempts, pushing to his feet swiftly and picking up the boy with ease as he went. Finding Patryck went just as easy, too. The man was simply doing small tasks that the supervisor had offered him. To Paul's eyes, Patryck shouldn't have to work as hard as he does. Patryck no matter how much he was put through, remained loyal to his cause. You would think that would be enough to pull Patryck to a higher position or something. This didn't seem to bother Patryck, though. Paul assumed that because if Patryck was in a different rank, he would of never met Paul or would still be by his side now.

    "Paul! Helllo?" Oh, oops.

    "Ah hey, Sunshine!" Dammit, how long had Patryck been talking?

    "As I was saying," the taller soldier raised an eyebrow as he spoke to give Paul an annoyed look, "this is adorable. How many tries did this take Tord to do?" He was referring to paper, which Tord held up with a very small giggle. The sloppy letters spelling out TORD in bold letters.

    In all honesty he didn't remember how many times exactly that Tord had wrote the letters, but he remembered it only took him four tries at his own name. First was written in a format to sloppy to read, the second was mixed on the lettering, the third was toggle case, and the final attempt was all uppercase, but readable. He explained this to Patryck, who seemed to nod in understanding.

    Tord himself just brought the paper back down and turned it so he could see the letters, grinning widely as he looked up at the two men. "Me. Tord." He giggled, a grin spreading across his small face. God if he didn't look like a little devil before, he surely did now. Tord liked this, he was able to tell who he was in two forms, and was able to recognize this word meant him. His title, his name.

    At the age of 3, Tord knew that he wanted himself to be known by all. 

-◇-

    He didn't know how long he had been running. At this point, it felt like it had been years. The last thing Patryck could remember was laying down with his little devil in his grasp and Paul's arms wrapped around his waist. The only plausible thing to assume was that he was dreaming, and that in this dream he was running to something. He didn't know exactly what, but that didn't matter. He'd find out soon enough, he guessed. He wondered what he had to do to move on past this and collect himself to stop running. So he started to think of everything he possibly could.

    The Army..  
no.  
    The plane..  
no.  
    The woman..  
no!  
    Family..  
He slowed down.  
    Paul..  
The world became brighter. Close.  
    Himself..  
A building appeared before him.  
    Tord...?  
He stopped.

    He'd never seen anything like it in his life. The building was a solid red, surrounded by a thick forest that he noted had been going on for miles. Before he could think about going inside, a figure in blue and red ran out, followed by two more of the same colors. He felt his body turn, and start to run after them into the forest. Soon, the forest disappeared, and he found himself on concrete. He noticed flight makers that lined the sides of the mass, and as he looked up the world changed once more. The building that he saw earlier was again in front of him.

    "Sir?" he heard Paul's voice. Patryck turned instantly, and almost called out, but froze again in confusion.

    He saw himself and Paul. Well, what he assumed was himself and Paul. The two looked older.. and their uniforms were different. Both seemed to be wearing matching red turtlenecks, similar blue overcoats, and the same grey shoes and pants. He noted as well what set the two men apart. Paul's eye had been covered by multiple bandages, and his eyes looked more worn and tired from age. The other Patryck had his coat opened to show straps going across his chest, and he was the only one appearing to be holding a gun at the moment. His hair was the same, but starting to show signs of grays. Behind them appeared to be a well loved plane, the letters "N0R5K1" spelled onto the rear back side of it, as well as that weird red symbol he remembered seeing at the crash site. It was confusing, all until a figure walked past him, and his heart stopped.

    Strawberry blonde, two horned hair. Tord. This was Tord, but.. older? What? He appeared similar to the two Soldiers behind him, with the same boots and pants, but the coat was different. Where the two had wore a turtleneck, the strange Tord-like figure wore a red hoodie that was similar to what the current Tord wore mostly as a blanket. His blue overcoat was similar in style but the collar was decorated with a white fur. 

    "Are you two ready?" The Norwegian accent hit his ears like a damn train. "I'd like to be on time."

    "Understood, Red Leader."

    What was his mind coming up with? Why was To- 'Oh,' his heart was now racing when Tord turned around, and he saw the face. He saw the arm. He saw the eye. Gone, mangled, scarred. This wasn't his little Tord. This.. thing was a monster. He felt himself gasp for breath, monster.. what a monster.

    "Ah- Oh! Hello, Old Friend! You're not supposed to be here. Don't worry, I'll fix that!"

    The gun was pulled, the shot was clear, and he screamed.

    "Pat! Pat!" He heard the little voice shout as he awoke in a sweat. Paul already up and alert at his husband's scream. "Okay? Okay?" Tord was panicking, his gold eyes wide with worry. Patryck was to afraid to move, what was that thing? A nightmare. That's what that was, and he promised himself he'd never let that happen to Tord. He loved the boy far to much.

    "Paul. Can we run away?" his tone was serious, and painful. "Paul please.. I can't! The nightmare. Tord.." His voice was afraid, and his heart only sunk more when Paul shook his head. No, no he didn't want this! Yeah, it was just a nightmare, but it felt so real.. like it was alive.

    Patryck could honestly admit that he was purely afraid. He didn't want to lose his sanity worrying over the state of Tord's future. Maybe.. maybe that's what Tord would want. Maybe he's overreacting. No.. no! Who would ever want to be such a monster. He curled to Paul and Tord, closing his eyes and letting the small rivers fall from his eyes to the earth. Soon, it was morning, and Patryck assumed he had cried himself to sleep. Remembering Paul's fingers running through his hair and soft words that Patryck couldn't quite understand, but eased him anyway. He remembered Tord cuddling to his side, trying to do what he could to help. Currently, both were clinging onto Patryck, fast asleep.

    Today was the day of their flight back home. Patryck was dreading every moment of it, but hadn't dared to say a single word. He felt sweaty when Paul woke and began to get ready, He felt his stomach tug when the plane had arrived, he felt his body sting at the face of his supervisor, and felt his breath stop when Tord was put onto the plane with them, and his heart stop when the door was closed. This was it, he guessed. His job now was to make the best of things for Tord, and Paul silently told himself this too. No matter what happened, they had to prove Tord's worth to Leader. If they failed, neither knew what they would do next.

    "You think Leader will accept him?" Paul let his words shake a little, so Patryck could understand why the man was panicking. Tord looked at him, confused and scared. He didn't know what 'Leader' was, but he assumed it was what Paul and Patryck were in distress about. He wanted to see both his current caretakers happy, and he would do anything he could to maintain that for them. He couldn't keep them safe like they did for him, but he'd try his best to repay the favor in any way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still 9 chapters behind quotev... ya'll get there I swear


	4. Warmer Welcomes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord has friends!

    "You brought a child?"  
    "Ugh, he's so dirty!"  
    "Leader isn't going to keep a brat here."  
    "Hold onto that thing, I don't want it breaking my shit."  
    "Ugh.. again you two? You crash a plane AND pick up a stray."

    "Pa?" Tord's little voice drowned out the things Paul was hearing and honestly could care less about. At one point, he had even turned to a Soldier and said, 'Sorry the only thing I hear is how much I don't give a fuck.' Patryck was nearly in tears over this and Tord clearly didn't understand a lick of what was going on or happening around him. He wasn't embarrassed by the slightest until Patryck finally gave him a lecture about cussing in front of Tord. 'You have to watch your mouth, he's still learning English and he's bound to copy anything either of us say.' God, what a protective father. Speaking of father- "Pa! Okay? Okay?"

    He froze in place for a moment and stared at Tord. Had he just thought of Patryck and himself as parents to Tord? Well, he had teased it, but he didn't really consider the thought.

    "PA!" Tord shouted again, with a stomp to his feet and tossing his hands down in a small fit.

    "I uh- yeah, I'm fine, Tord."

    "Fine?" The boy's face twisted in confusion.

    "Yeah, fine. Like okay." He finally noticed at this point Patryck was no longer with them, and he remembered why. The couple was called personally by Leader the second the two walked onto base with Tord. Patryck ran ahead to the office, and let Paul and Tord take their time. He was so lost in his thoughts he had forgotten entirely about the order. "Shit, come on, kid." He mumbled, pulling Tord into his arms and heading to the office.

    When he arrived, his eyes met with that of a nervously smiling Patryck and a very impatient Leader. "There you two are," the grey man hissed, Leader leaning back in his chair to lazily extend out his arm to direct Paul to stand next to Patryck. "Put the brat down." Both soldiers felt their bodies tense. Eventually, after some silence, Leader began to question.

    How did you find him? "After we crashed, and have been traveling for a few days, we found him injured and bleeding in the forest. We patched him up and brought him along with us."

    His nationality? "He's Norwegian for sure, Sir."

    Hold old is he? "We don't exactly know, but we can find someone who can properly speak Norwegian to ask Tord about his age and birthday. Maybe even more if Tord is willing to share."

    Why did you name him Tord? "That's what he calls himself, Sir."

    Why is he wearing red? "All we had at the time for him that wasn't ripped, dirty or destroyed. We did this to keep his wounds safe."

    What use does he have? "He can already write basic letters and his name. He also had quite the skill with knives and some other weapons."

    Why is he here? "We think he would be an asset."

    Leader went quiet again in thought, his eyes narrowing.

    Both Patryck and Paul held their breath when the Brit stared down at the small boy, "you didn't talk about him in your report when you were in Norway." He had began, Leader's face twisted in confusion. "You two are idiots. Alright, give me a reason to keep this brat on my base." Both soldiers felt their defenses kick in, Patryck ready to rip Leader's throat out for daring to speak about Tord in such a way.

    "His name is Tord, Sir." Paul corrected, earning himself another glare and a soft elbow from Patryck. "Apologies. We know that Tord is able to bring something knew to the table. Since we've picked him up from Norway he's shown skills that can surpass the average soldier. He's special, Sir. Give Tord a chance." It went silent after Paul left his case at rest. The man taking a deep breath and holding it in his gut, hoping that Leader would accept Tord. Patryck and himself watched as Leader stood up and walked around his desk to stand tall in front of Tord, the small boy in red not flinching in the slightest. Two golden eyes just stared up at the graying man, with curiosity and question. After a while, Leader knelt down to the boy's height.

    "Is this so, 'Tord?' That if I believe these two soldiers and let you stay, you'll prove yourself to me?" Tord didn't understand but looked up at Paul and Patryck who just smiled in return, the shorter one softly nodding.

    With Paul's luck, Tord caught the memo. "Yes." The boy replied with confidence, and somehow that pleased Leader as he stood back up. Tord backed up slightly and stopped when Paul took one of his hands and Patryck taking the other.

    "You two are very set about this." Leader returned to eyeing the boy, when finally with a sigh of defeat the words came out, "alright. He can stay. But you two are responsible for any mess he makes. He stays in one of your rooms at night, I'm not preparing an extra space just for a child."

    "We're a couple sir, we share a room already. That shouldn't be a problem." Patryck noted, and Leader seemed mildly embarrassed for a moment. "Thank you, we promise and assure that he will be your greatest asset."

    Now this grabbed Leader's attention, and he stopped the two soldiers before they walked out of his office, "Now that you mention it, I'll spend my own time with him at points, just to see how much you speak of this child is true. Also, there is another Norwegian soldier in your division, he should be "

    "Jeg forstår ikke." Tord's little voice eventually spoke up, Paul and Patryck just quieted the boy and nodded in understanding at their leader. Then finally taking Tord and walking out with the largest sigh of relief, Patryck afterward breaking out into a large squeal. Just pleased it was going their way for once, and something good was finally happening to them both. They had their boy.

    "I'm surprised that even worked, honestly." Paul mumbled, brushing off and adjusting his jacket. He watched as his boyfriend nodded in reply but didn't say anything. "Pat? You okay there?" Paul noticed that his efforts were going down the drain and that this was possibly the only response he was going to be receiving from the man. "Pattt-"

    "Stop," the other strained as he spoke, "just stop. God I was so afraid he wasn't going to let him stay, what I was thinking of doing for how he treated him." Patryck's face turned to discomfort as his thoughts triggered again. "I'm a loyal soldier, Paul. I'm loyal. I've always been loyal, but something in me is starting to see a different way! I'm afraid, Paul. I can't think this way. I'll be killed or worse I-" No, no stop. Patryck held Tord close to him, his tight grip causing the trapped boy to squeak and squirm.

    Paul didn't know how to take this, and just stood there staring at the man with confusion until it hit him, both men where more loyal to a baby than their own Leader. "Hey.. it's alright. You're honestly not the only one feeling that way." He had a fear that this feeling, or thought if preferred, would lead the couple to something awaiting. What was it? Neither had a clue. When would it come? Neither could dare to dream in fear of disappointment or surprise.

-◇-

    A few days had passed and Paul and Patryck began to discover more and more about Tord. They had been going to a soldier in their division named Daniel, a Norwegian blacksmith. Honestly, he was quite a funny guy with an accent much thicker than Tord's. Hell, Daniel seemed quite happy to talk to the small boy. He had married a German woman outside of the army since both could happily speak German, making this man fluid in three languages. Honestly, Paul never thought someone could ever get so bilingual. Regardless, they learned his birthday was May 17th, making him a Taurus. As well as putting his birthday just a month away. They also learned Tord was actually four opposed to the thought they had of him being three or younger. At least they were close right? They also learned- more like confirmed- that Tord loved the color red. It was nice to get to know the boy, even if it wasn't on their own terms.

    "He's been getting better at English, ain't he?"

    "Yeah, thank god for Daniel's hard work. I didn't even know he would feel so interested into Tord." Patryck almost replied on the instant to Paul, which wasn't any surprise at this point. "I'm just happy we can talk with him... it's very nice."  
      
    "Pst!" Speaking of the devil, the small boy had run back to his two caretakers.

    Now it was like this every time, as soon as the boy appeared both Paul and Patryck were fighting to help him. Even now, both stood up on the instant to the boy and said yes in a flawless unison. Tord jumped at this, staring at the two with annoyance. Note to self, both thought, Tord didn't like to be addressed in such a fashion. Wait, what were they thinking? It's a baby they were to raise, he'd just have to get used to this type of treatment.

    "Sorry, what is it, Tord?" Patryck spoke with a wide smile, kneeling down to the boy's height. Paul eventually following the action.

    "Ah- ahem," the boy coughed a little, and eventually said in studded English, "Hello, fathers! I am Tord, I am four!"

    Paul and Patryck never thought they would be so happy, both pulling the small boy into their arms with laughter, and at the moment it was peace. The two of them wished that there was a way for Tord to stay like this forever, and at the thought, Patryck remembered his dream.

    No, after this? His Tord? No, he'd take the blow before he'd ever let anyone touch his son.

-◇-

 

     As the time had passed, he found himself at 5.

    Tord's progress with the weapons he had been training with had improved greatly over the passing year, and hell he even made a friend with a blonde teenager that was in their division. Paul remembered when the boy was saved, and honestly couldn't care less. The boy was named Adam, and always was coming to Paul about stupid things that were happening. Which just so happened to be the cause of Paul's lack of care and respect for the teenage soldier. For now though, he'd back off a little since Tord clearly enjoyed the Adam's company. Hell, a few nights out of the months they were together, Adam acted like a babysitter for Tord. Patryck found this to be a blessing, and gladly accepted the freedom away from the loud Norwegian 5 year old.

    Tord also proved his skills to Leader greatly, and proved that he quite possibly could grow into the greatest asset they could dream for. His writing and English improvement showed a lot out of the boy, he even began to hold simple conversations on his own. The more complex ones usually he would slip into Norwegian(which Daniel made sure the boy also kept up with). Paul and Patryck wanted to spend every moment with him, until they heard Tord would be leaving them for several hours during the week.

"He'll be attending primary school in the morning."

    Paul just nodded in understanding, and Patryck jumped on the instant in annoyance, "What!" he cried out, his anger slipping out of him as his body pushed up and two hands met with Leader's desk. "Why can't he be home schooled? He should stay here where we can watch him!" Patryck tried to protest, but it came out more like a childish fit. He was alright with Adam watching him, but let alone another adult outside of the army? With other reckless children?

    "He needs social interaction outside of our walls. Plus, neither of you really seem like the type to teach." Leader leaned back, the gray man raising his eyebrow in clear annoyance. "That's not happening, Soldier. This is for his mental development." He was oddly calm about Patryck's sudden lash in behavior, and remained calm as the taller soldier continued his fit when he sat back down. "Thank you for understanding."

    When they returned to Tord, Adam seemed to welcome the other two soldiers with a kind wave, "Hello there." Tord himself just looked up from the paper he was coloring on to stare at his two adoptive fathers, dropping the green crayon on the ground to run and hug the legs of the two soldiers. "He surely missed you."

    It was nice to be as loved as they were, well, to at least feel loved. Tord's little hugs and smiles were enough to brighten their day, and the hearts of anyone who had a warm heart. Love was the remedy to hate, as some would like to say, some of those people included Patryck.

    "Thanks again for watching him," Paul tried to avoid gritting his teeth as he replied, "we er, owe you one?" He knew if he was rude to Adam, Patryck would be up to his ass for a week.

    "Aw, Mr. Paul, it's fine!" The blonde then grinned and Paul's temper slightly bloomed at the next few words, "did you know that-"

    "I know that no one cares."

    He felt Patryck's fist meet with his arm, but it was worth any punishment. Adam was an annoying asshole and he deserved whatever was around the corner.

    "I can't believe you said that! Paul, he's a kid." Patryck hissed in annoyance, keeping Tord on the side of himself away from Paul. "Can't you be nice to him? Like genuinely nice, for once?" He figured that shouldn't be so hard considering Paul knew the type of man his boyfriend was. Patryck was about ready to put pushpins in the man's breakfast for how he treated the blonde.

    The responding shrug wasn't much of an aid to him either, now that he noticed that Paul really could give less of a damn. Patryck tried to push it off his shoulders when they returned to their room for the night. As usual, Paul and Patryck took turns changing and entertaining Tord with something, before changing the boy into sleep wear themselves. After the normal half hour protest from Tord, both Paul and Patryck were both curled in bed with the strawberry blonde boy already fast asleep.

    "His things are ready for tomorrow, right?"

    Patryck didn't want to talk about the school issue, but he assumed he had nothing better to do. "Er- yeah. He's good. I just.. really hope he'll enjoy himself."

-◇-

    In the morning, Patryck sat-dressed and ready for that matter- in bed watching Paul chase the small red devil around the room in attempts to get the boy dressed for the day. With their luck, they found a smaller red hoodie that fit the boy perfectly unlike the larger red one, which was clearly for an adult slightly smaller than Paul.

    "He's really kicking your ass."

    Paul didn't seem to find that all that funny, only stopping to glare, soon after to begin his goose chase with Tord. At the end of it, he held the small boy up by his underarms. Tord dressed in small red shoes, a red hoodie and black pants.

    "See, I did it. No struggle at all." Yeah, he thought, tell that to all the hell Tord just inflicted.

    "Uh huh, sure." The other replied, slipping out of bed and into his shoes. Watching as Paul rushed to ready himself to meet at Patryck's side. "Oh my god, Paul, really?"

    Fingers brushed through his hair for a moment until Patryck was pleased with how Paul looked, kissing the man calmly and leading him out of their shared room and outside of the base. Their drive off was just as uneventful other than Tord's repetitive questioning every few minutes asking if they were 'there yet.'

    Eventually, he found himself alone. Paul and Patryck were both gone, and he was afraid.

    "Hey there!" A voice called in his direction, and his eyes turned to see a boy in a green shirt and dark brown hair. "You look lonely, what's your name?"

    "Tord, my name is Tord"

    "Nice to meet you, Tord! I'm Edd! I like your accent. Do you want to meet my friends?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam is not an oc haha, it's actually just the character "Yuu." I am uncomfortable calling him Yuu for personal reasons.  
> If this bothers anyone, I will consider changing it.
> 
> Annyway! I would love feedback! What would you like to see, any characters you'd like more of?


	5. Overall Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a pretty color. 
> 
> I want more of it.

    He couldn't stop staring into the dead voids of the boy in jean overalls and the soft yellow shirt. Tom, is what Edd called him. He was a dirty blonde, lightly warmed skinned Brit, rounder head with.. black eyes? No eyes? Something like that. That didn't really matter much to Tord, he just noticed how the boy appeared childish and sweet, hell he even tightly grasped onto a teddy bear that appeared to have one single line across the face. Possibly in replace of the bear's eyes.

    "Why are you staring at me?" the voice was oddly smoother than he thought it should be, but somehow that was fitting. 

    "Your eyes are weird."

    "Yeah," the boy sighed, "I got them from my mother. She's.. kind of a bowling ball. My dad is a pineapple. It's a long story." What? He knew he questioned why he had two dads and everyone else he met had a mom and a dad, but how a bowling ball and a pineapple as parents? That was plain weird.

    But, despite how strange Tom was, he was something? Tord didn't exactly have the words to put into place. 

    "Staring is really mean." was the final thing before the upset boy looked away, and the other boy that Edd introduced Tord too tried to pipe up into the conversation. 

    "Aw, cheer up Tim! It's alright!" This boy was named Matt. He had ginger hear and slight freckles, along with oddly nice dark teal eyes. His face was also more square than a lot of the children there. "I'm sure Todd doesn't mean any harm."

    "My name's Tom.." He clutched the bear tighter.

    "Yeah! That's what I said!"

    Clearly, stupidity didn't fail to follow this boy today. But, being the person he was, Tord brushed it off and began to slowly chat with the two until Edd finally returned. It was odd for him to be suddenly brought into the company of the three around him. It became clear to Tord that all three new words that he didn't and it made everything extremely awkward. Tord trying his hardest to keep himself within the English vocabulary. God, was it hard.

    "When I grow up, I want to be a superhero." That was just some of the few silly things Tord found himself listening to that day. Most of the crazier topics coming from Matt, the remainder was Edd. Tom oddly didn't speak as much as Tord assumed him to do. Ah, one less person to remember anything about, he guessed. Maybe.

    "We all have the same teacher!" Edd laughed warmly as he spoke, in a pure happiness over staying close to his friends. "Even you too, Tord! How awesome! I'm sorry you're stuck back there though."

    Oh, yeah. Tord noticed that the three that he was talking earlier were sitting at the brown desk in front of him, leaving him to be the lone fighter in the far back. 

    "That is fine. I manage." He watched as the green one gave him a weird look, but turned away to respond to a question that the grey one... Matt.. had asked him. Well, a better time than never to just settle down for a second and wish for his fathers to return. His mind slowly turning back to them as his arms crossed on his desk and he sunk his head until they rested in the warmth of his red hoodie sleeves.

    But like all things, it must come to an end. That would just so happen to be when the school day finally started.

    The day started and ended mostly the same, and the day was blurry to Tord. Strange introductions of teachers and other classmates. The older ones being harder to understand like Paul and Patryck were, but Tord was sure he'd come around eventually. Patryck once explained to him that he was a fast learner, right? Right. Yeah.

    For now, he watched the boys he met earlier chatter between each other. 

    The purple one clapping his hands to agree with anything the green one said, and the other.. oddity.. nodding in understanding. his feet only carrying him in the direction of the three, following them out until he heard his name from afar. His eyes soon greeted with a smiling Patryck in casual wear. 

    "Is that your dad?" Tom's voice eventually hit his ear, noting the hand that pulled at the arm of his hoodie.

    "Yes."

    "He looks nice!" Well, not as nice as Patryck just so happened to be(if we can call extreme anxiety to be n i c e), but Tom was relatively right.

    "He is."

    Tom only seemed to be in more wonder as he came closer, his appearance clinging onto Tord's arm. The Norwegian boy not caring enough to say anything about it. Honestly, it was nice to have someone near. Well, one of the three he met nearby, in general, made him a bit happier. Tom was settled until a car had pulled up with what appeared to be a pineapple with glasses? He thought Tom had been kidding, but this seemed to rock Tord's world. 

    "Aw, that's my ride. Bye, Tord! I'll see you tomorrow!" With that, he watched the boy in blue overalls run off into the car.

    Tom really was one weird boy. Tord really wanted to know more about him.

-◇-

    He was in full hopes that Tord's day went okay without himself and Patryck, but his husband wasn't sharing the same thoughts. All damn day he didn't stop hearing about Patryck's worry over the boy. Non-stop he rambled over if Tord was happy, if Tord was safe or worrying, if Tord wasn't being accepted. God, these things worried him too much. It was best if he calmed down just a tad, he figured. Hell, when he saw Tord at the end of the day he noticed three other boys that were walking with him.

    A green one, with short brown hair and a friendly smile. A pencil behind his ear and hope in his eyes.

    A purple one, with ginger hair all stuffed messily into a purple hat. Hell, he even had a sweet skip to his step. 

    A blue one, with dirty blonde hair and no eyes, a rounder face followed with a tiny innocent smile. 

    "How about you stay in the car, I feel like you'll embarrass him."

    Wow, that was rude. Patryck gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if he had just been betrayed or possibly even worse. "How dare you! Me? Embarrass my own son? What are you talking about? I'm not embarrassed at all!" It was apparent that he wasn't remotely joking. God, Patryck can be such a cliche drama queen sometimes.

    "Yeah," the door clicked open along with his tongue, "Love ya though."

    "Fuck you!"

    Click, and then the door was shut. Patryck visible from inside giving his husband a very, very, very kind gesture. He decided to ignore this, pushing between cars to call out for Tord's attention.

    What he saw next was rather cute. Tord turned and smiled at his father, and started to move from the group before the small blue one grabbed his hoodie, gripping tightly onto the red fabric with wide, curious, um, eyes? It was an oddly adorable sight, with Tord looking so calm and the other boy clinging so close with innocence hidden in his soul. Paul felt as if he could stare forever, but that came to an end when a car pulled up for Tom, and the boy vanished into the car. Trailing goodbyes to Tord and the other boys as he left.

    "Soooo who were they?" The boy just stared up at his father, "aw, come on Tord, who are your new friends? Or do you not want to share, if so that's fine. But trust me, Pat ain't gonna' be off your back unless you tell 'em."

    "Edd, Tom, and Matt. Edd is nice, Tom is nice, Matt is stupid. I like Edd."

    "Was he the blue one?"

    "No, that is Tom. Edd wears green."

    Well, at least he had an idea which boy was which, he figured he'd remember the names more as time went on. He asked a few more questions as he fixed Tord into the back car seat, soon letting Patryck take over the conversation.

    "He said his parents were a what? Am I hearing this correctly?"

    "Pineapple and bowling ball." the car came to a stop a the light, but not Patryck's laughter. 

    "What a creative child, he sounds nice. They all do, I'm glad you made yourself some friends, Tord."

    Tord could only make a face at the word 'friend.' He never heard a word of the sort before, and it threw him through a damn loop. "What is friend?" He honestly just didn't know, he noted Paul saying it, Daniel told him it, Patryck just now said it, but no one explained it to him. 

    "Oh! It's someone that you trust, and you can feel comfortable around."

    Oh, that made since then. Tord let it settle, and when he finished thinking he spoke aloud, "Edd, Tom, and Matt are friends."

    At the age of 5, he met the three greatest friends of all time.

    The word ran through his head and made him feel slightly warm inside. The world felt like a different place- wait, now he realized.

    He noticed home and school was two completely different places, incomparable to the other. He didn't think that it would be so different, he assumed he would see the same colors and faces, but it was more colorful than he intended, it was more comforting and childish than he intended. It was a paradise he never saw before or dreamed of. He never knew so many colors existed! Every day, he only saw the grey, red and occasionally blue. Today, he saw so many pretty colors. He saw the pink dress of the teacher, the green shirt of Eduardo and Edd, the Yellow on Tom's shirt.. he never saw these colors in his life. 

    Well, he saw the colors outside as he passed by, but he never paid much attention to the sky or dirt. His eyes drifted out the window to the mentioned entity, the sea of blue and fluffy white clouds dancing above. The trees and other vegetation racing past the car. What a simple place, he thought. He didn't like it, and he closed his eyes to look away from what bothered him.

    Why couldn't he see these things from home? What made others deserve such a life? Why was he on the side of paradise that felt cold? He didn't like the thoughts that began to form, he didn't understand them or where they came from. If everyone were the same, no one would feel this way, right? Same income, same clothes, same lives, it would be so easy! Cookie cutter, plain, simple, a paradise. 

    "Tord?" A voice eventually coughed for the boy's attention. "You okay buddy?" Paul's hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing slightly with a worried expression on his face. Tord realized they were back home at the base, about to head back inside. Patryck had vanished, so he assumed the family had been called for.

    "I am okay. Shoot?" Shooting range, yeah, that would be a great place to let out his thoughts. He loved watching people train even if he couldn't himself. It was a comforting place to be, and he placed his hands on his hips, waiting for his response.

    "Sorry, kiddo. We can't go to the shooting range right now."

    Really? Tord didn't want to push it, so his little smile turned upside down as Paul pulled him away from the car. How absurd! Whoever had called could wait, Paul! Tord didn't want to get in trouble, so the small boy just followed his adoptive father willingly through the halls until the door to Leader's office appeared. Great. He was really beginning to hate this man.

    Tord didn't pay attention to over half of their meeting, only often hearing his name and other small things such as the school. He nearly fell asleep in Patryck's lap too, all until the office door opened and men rather harshly shoved someone inside.

    "Sir, we found a British spy." 

    The small red hooded boy looked over at the soldiers, seeing how all were in similar uniforms to Paul and Patryck. He didn't know their faces and knew it wouldn't matter to him later, so these faces shifted into nothing. But the man they held captive was different. He was in fear, eyes wide in distress, his whole body shaking.

    "Leader, let me take Tord outside-" that was the last of what he heard as Patryck's hands covered the boy's ears, Paul trying to block the sight. He could hear muffled arguing and could see the looks on their faces. 

    When the trigger was pulled, it rang.

    The world ran quiet, and Tord saw everything before Patryck could do anything about it. 

    Red.

    Red, so much red. Dark red, the more it pooled, the deeper of a red it became.

    What a pretty color.

    "Get this cleaned up," Leader hissed, turning back to eye the boy, "it's better if he saw that now than later, don't you agree?"

    Patryck's light grumble was only noticeable to Tord, and Paul's expression showed his true opinion. It didn't matter now, it was said and done. Leader didn't seem to even care in the slightest that there was a child in the room, doing his job was 'more important to his reputation.' As if treating a child with respect wasn't!

-◇-

    It was a rough night, to say the least. Patryck playing with the horns of a sleeping Tord's hair as Paul tried to get some rest. Neither could help but to feel as if words were being held back or locked away.

    "I wish he was a more reasonable leader." The taller soldier whispered, Paul looking over his shoulder to address Patryck as the man spoke. "He didn't have to see that-"

    "We can't argue it."

    "-Maybe if we ran away he could have had a happier childhood-"

    "Pat."

    "This is all my fault. I should have never crashed! We would have never had Tord here. Tord wouldn't be suffering-!"

    "Patryck! Fucking hell!" 

    It was a weird glance of betrayal the two shared, Patryck not saying much more as he pulled away from Tord and faced the wall away from Paul. Neither spoke a word for the remainder of the night, and you know what? Paul was fine with that, let Patryck throw his fit. He'll be better in the morning, right?"

-◇-

    "Father! You won't believe all the new friends I met today!" The Brit boy smiled, black eyes full of pure joy.

    "...."

    Well, Tom never heard a greater idea in his life. "Fishing? Today? Sounds like a great idea!" The overall boy jumped lightly in his seat as he stared out the window with a wide grin, hugging the bear in his arms tighter to his chest. Could he ask for more than this?

    "......"

    "Aw! I love you too!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gosh I want to catch ya'll up with them over on Q so I can dive right into SAINTS... :(


	6. Death List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First major timeskip in Tord's story.

    The closest comfort was their own shared bed. It was where the couple talked, laughed, argued, their entire lives and relationship was built and shared in this one room.

    "I wish we had more of a say what happens to our son." He asked, flicking at the ends of his worksheets. Curling into himself on his shared bed, only to find Paul's arms wrapped around his waist. The teddy bear man curled up calmly against the other.

    "But not having it makes our job easier!" 

 "We, are terrible parents." Patryck only snorted in reply, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend's comment. 

    "Oh. Maybe it would be easier if we were actually married." Paul squeezed lightly, eyes slowly moving to stare at his smooth-skinned lover.

    "Yeah may- wait.. wait, what? Paul! Holy shit! Don't joke with me like that." The taller bolted up, eyes wide in shock and confusion. 

    "What? It's true. How about it? I'd kill to see you in a suit and- mhpf-" 

    Patryck wouldn't allow the other to finish what he wanted to say before jumping the other and pushing him down into a kiss. Good going, Paul. Fucking smooth. 

-◇-

    Each morning granted more worth ever since school began. Tord was used to doing the same things day in and day out, he was bored with life and had a hope that one day there would be something like this... school thing. He'd be lying if he said it was the learning that made school interesting. The reality was that it happened to be Edd, Matt, and Tom who made going to School each day something interesting. Well, maybe not so much for Tom anymore. He watched the little void eyed boy change drastically after the first day they met, shoulders sunk, face to the ground and arms clutched tightly around his own body in an attempt to save himself from breaking down. It was either Tord was over thinking it or something was really wrong with Tom.

    His fathers didn't change other than their eventual marriage. Both soldiers finding ease in their special bond with each other, finding a sort of happiness that Tord couldn't have. How delightful.

    At least Edd and Matt never seemed to change in such a drastic manner. Edd was always laid back and goofy, always being the first to poke fun and pull smiles from his friends. Matt.. only appeared to get stupider. He remembered when Patryck eventually explained to him it was "rude" to call people stupid, he also called Patryck stupid the same day.

    The lessons Tord learned went through one ear and went out the other for the most part, only finding any interest in correcting the teacher in mathematics and any science topic that Tord studied on his own. It didn't matter how nice or rude the teacher, Tord couldn't keep his mouth shut. Conference after conference, the same words were relayed to Paul and Patryck. 

    "Your son needs to correct his behavior and not speak so disrespectfully or out of turn." 

    He never really minded these, he knew afterward Paul would lightly scold him for his disrespect but praise him for how he was able to think at a higher level. Paul didn't want that spark that his son had to vanish or disappear, he wanted to encourage Tord to speak his mind. Maybe one day that spark would be what saves Patryck and himself.

    Though it was still bad behavior to display in front of the other children and for the most part, Tord's friends. It hurt to see Edd's look of worry, Tom's distasteful frown, and Matt's wondering eyes. All there were enough to make the strawberry blonde want to curl into himself and rip out what he could. He didn't want to let them down, he didn't want to chase them away, he wanted his friends to like him as friends. Not treat him constantly like Leader's future weapon, or see him differently if they heard of the things Leader did to him behind sealed walls. Was it so bad to have one single wish? 

    These were Tord's feelings throughout his quite bare first years of school up until a few of secondary school. His training only became harder, his fathers became more distant and behaved more had bodyguards, and at last missions were placed at the young teen's feet. Tord felt as if the only thing holding his sanity were his friends. Even regardless of their light changes, all three.. two were good friends. He grew closer to Matt and began to respect him slightly, and Edd somehow managed to keep the world spinning with his jokes. Tom... was different, to say the least. He was annoying, but the way Tom handled himself was surely interesting.

    He couldn't quite figure out what he was doing wrong, each little mistake could cause a new kind of pain he never felt before. New hues he never saw before began to color his skin in the ugliest purples. Tord couldn't figure out what he was doing wrong in his training, all he could do was stumble in pain, and try again. If he refused the training, he feared the effect it would put on him would be worse than ever.

     Did Leader hate him for some unseen reason? Was there a barrier that Tord had crossed? He remembered nights begging to be set free as things were taken off him and Leader forced him to accept these things as a reality. As if Leader cared for him but turned around to shove a knife in his throat. He spent hours at night, looking over his bruises in a wonder of if he was even cared for, period. Was this punishment for being abandoned? He couldn't remember the life he had before this, he didn't know family other than Patryck or Paul.

    He spent the next few years of his life like this. He quickly learned how to fake it to make it.

    He learned how to fake a cry when he was supposed to be "scared."

    He learned how to fake anger when he was supposed to be angry.

    He learned how to fake a smile... to an extent. There was always one person that would see strait through him each time. 

    He said each word, and in turn they sliced into Tord's skin like Leader's whip. "Why do you fake your smiles? They used to be so full of life." 

    Golden eyes turned to inspect the green hoodied mam next to him, and the metallic red can, sparkling liquid dripping down the sides and onto Edd's hand, hungry for the warmth his hand offered.

    "I don't know what you're talking about, my friend." The Norwegian leaned back onto the tree, eyes nailed into the brown ones that seemed to judge every move.

    "Tord. Be honest with me. What's going on?"

    Tord's shoulders lifted, looking behind him to gaze at the two other figures in the distance.

    Blue and black. 

    Black and blue.

    The same colors that painted the skin among his arms, back, legs, torso, you name it. 

    Edd spoke again, this time placing a hand on Tord's shoulder with a pure look of worry in his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Matt and Tom have nothing to do with this. Is it something at home..-?"

    "My fathers are arguing more lately. My grandfather is being stubborn and wants me to help him and my fathers say I shouldn't." It was the truth, but sugarcoated. The only hell knew what was in store for Edd if he knew about Leader and the Army.

    The other's face shifted as he replied, "Oh.. I'm sorry." he said with a light frown, a look of worry in his eyes. "Do.. you want to talk about it? You really should... I'm here for you, Tord." 

    As much as he really wanted that, Tord knew it wouldn't be alright. "No." Shoulders shrugged and feet crossing as he sunk to the dirt, Matt's laugher Tom's snarky comments, Edd's slow sips from the cola can, all drew him into his dreamworld once more.

    When he awoke, the cool breeze brushing through the fabric of his black trench coat as he relaxed against the cool damp earth. He wasn't alone, to his left were the three closest friends he had since beginning school. Still here, even when he passed out on them, they still remained.

    "Good morning, handsome!" Matt sang out with a toothy grin, only to cough as his stomach was elbowed, the mirror stumbling in his grasp. "Tom! Not funny! You could have hurt the handsome man." He adjusted his dark green overcoat, eyes glared lightly at the man in mention.

    "You mean your lame reflection, right?" Tom raised an eyebrow and would have rolled his eyes if he had any. "Annnyway, hell night is coming. Anyone else going to hide in doors with a bottle and no self-respect? I sure am." He wasn't even 18 and Tom threw his entire life away by drinking. Even now he shoved a hand into his front pocket and pulled out a water bottle full of what appeared to be Tom's favorite, Smirnoff.

    Tord couldn't blame him, he remembered Paul explaining that he first began to smoke when he was little. Some habits start early, he assumed.

    "Tom, stop being so rude. Let Matt have his fun." The dark green one grumbled, pulling the strings of his hoodie in annoyance as he leaned back against the grass. "Tord! You're awake."

    The Norwegian blinked, his gaze frozen solid before shifting to sit on his knees. "Good morning. I found a cloud that reminded me of a gun. I liked it."

    Tom couldn't help but to grumble, rubbing his face as he spoke, "oh how typical of you to turn such happy and lovely things into dark shit. Nice, Tord." 

    "Oh! I see one that looks like you, Tom. Ah, nevermind. It's just a pile of dog shit." 

    "Listen asshole-" The growl that came from the blue man was enough to alarm.

    "If you're going to fight, leave!" Word stabbed the two men like a knife, both cowering down to Edd's anger like puppies that upset their master. "I'm sorry. But you two need a walk or something at the least, work this out please." The two men watched as Edd tried to push a nervous smile. Relaxing when Tom shrugged and took his friend's advice, standing up and began walking. "Tord?"

    "Yes yes, I'm going, mom." He grumbled, pushing to his feet only to hear Edd's laughter as he followed after Tom. Leaving him alone with the awkward tension between himself and the blue man next to him. Was this really enough to make him 'apologize?' He respected Edd to be the leader of the group, but maybe Edd didn't have the best advice when it came between these two. Well, it couldn't hurt to try.

    "Tom?"

    "What, asshole." 

    "Wow, I was going to say it was a lovely day. But I honestly feel so attacked right now." He let his hands rest in his pockets, lifting up his coat and wave dramatically as he swung a leg to wobble sarcastically as he walked. "Thanks!"

    "You're welcome, dickhead."

    Maybe this wasn't working.. hm.

    Tord grabbed Tom's attention when he stopped walking, unbuttoning the trench coat to reveal the red hoodie underneath.

    "You actually wear something under that thing?"

    "Why, what did you think I wore?"

    Tom raised a finger to try and speak, only to let the sigh defeat escape him. "I don't know, actually."

    "Plus, it goes really well with my hat." He chuckled, only grinning to see Tom's complete face of confusion. "Kidding! I'm kidding. I.. think I have something that might help you?"  Or maybe win Tom's favor so the man didn't try to strangle him later on. Tom didn't say anything in return, so Tord took this as his cue to pull the oddly cold metal object out of the front pocket and hand it over to Tom. "My fathers found this in a plane crash back when I was little. I suppose because you drink so much, a flask may come in handy." 

    "... thanks... Tord?" Tom fiddled with the small flask, seeing how it all worked before giving a light smile. "Hey. Uh."

    "Am I off your death list?"

    "Nope. Just wanted to say you look nice in red. You should show Edd and Matt. A non-gothic Tord is nice to see." Tom shoved the flask into his pocket as he shrugged, turning to finally walk off.

    What.

    Was that a compliment or an insult? Maybe it was both? Tord wasn't really sure anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed Overall Boy and Warmer Welcomes were mixed up! I fixed it !! no worries !!


	7. Birds in Dew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you know about pure happiness.  
> He's the only one who made me feel that way.

    He watched another soldier die today. A German spy, this time. His dirty blonde hair and dark eyes in the fear of leaders rath.. only that wasn't how Tord would remember it.

    "Ah, Tord. How nice to see you today." A white glove slid it's slick fingers across the table top, the owner's eyes gazing among the dusted tips in disgust. The sneer slowly forming just above his greying jawline. 

    "What do you need, Sir." 

    Those damn ghostly fingers brushed themselves off on the grey fabric of the jacket, Leader holding his head up high as he shifted to his feet, pictures of his accomplishments in the background.. Tord was apart of every one of those missions. Yet his face was never there. What was all this for then? Why did he even bother trying if he never got any of the glory. If he didn't get the respect he deserved-

    "I have a task for you. It's very simple, then we could begin our usual bonding time, yes?" Training. The wicked smile flashed across Leader's face, staring deep into those golden eyes. Ready to break every last bit of spirit Tord had to craft the perfect soldier. "Bring him." The white glove ghosted over the button on Leader's collar, the sizzle of the door opening against the grey runner giving Tord goosebumps.

    He slowly turned his head, hands slipping into the silky pockets of his grey uniformed coat. The other soldier bore casual clothes and a look of pure terror. The dirty hair and dark eyes almost reminding him of someone, hell, it was distracting enough he didn't notice Leader speaking until a cool metal was felt against his hand.

    "I want you to do it, this time." The grey man spoke in a soft voice, the expressionless look soon turning into a smirk. 

    Why, though? Tord already had a death count of a normal soldier at just the age of a normal teenager. How would this soldier make any difference? He wants to prove my loyalty. He wants to prove that my fathers haven't been doing my missions for me. Tord thought to himself, staring down at the cold gun in his hands. He wants me to prove that I'll be his slave forever, and will die for him like everyone else here. He wants me to prove that I'm his puppet. 

    No one. 

    He hissed to himself as he adjusted and took aim, seeing the dirty hair and dark eyes turn grey.

    No one owns me. No one can control me. Not even you. 

    The rush of the trigger-happy feelings in the young boy was madding, the shock of the gun when he pulled the trigger and the grey turning red was enough to please his excitement for the bloodshed.

    I am my own Leader. 

    A hand slipped its way onto Tord's shoulder, patting softly in confidence. Leader's disgraceful face torn into the grin as the dead figure in front of them fell from the soldiers arms to the floor. "Well done," he said, "You're proving yourself to be a promising weapon, Tord."

    A blank stare found Leader's dull brown eyes to be boring. They were nothing warm and comforting like Edd's, not dark enough to be as interesting as Tom's, and no where as bright enough to be as lively as Matt's. Leader was dull, old and begging for a much needed retirement. Well, at least his soldiers begged for that. Tord felt drained just looking at the old rag. Maybe one day, someone could put him in his place.

    The two figures nodded at each other, as nothing more was said between the two when the strawberry blonde left the room. His arms hugged tightly against his arms and dulling eyes glued to the floor as he spoke. 

    That man looked like Tom, didn't he? What if it was- no. It wasn't. He would of stopped himself if not for Tom, for Edd. No one could quite pull off the dead black eyes of Tom, anyway. 

    I am his leader, anyway.

-◇-

    His tall husband laughed, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and his wedded hand held to his stomach as the other wiped tears away. Patryck was so perfect, even despite his imperfections. Despite his anxieties and fears, his husband was perfect. His skin was soft and spotless from scars, his eyes were gentle and everchanging.

    "Sky-islands are not a thing, Paul!"

    "Are too! Say that next time ya' see a damn cloudberg. They are as real as dirt." He cried in protest.

    The halls were empty today, other than himself and Patryck. Most of the soldiers were being searched since that German spy had been found. What was his name again? Ah, it didn't matter. He was long gone, possibly dead by now. The couple were opted from the search all thanks to the army's current project with Tord, the two needed on call at any moment to aid their son in whatever he needed.

    Was that how they wanted to parent him, though? Being told how to treat him? Were they really parents to Tord at all if everything Tord had ever been fed was war and bloodshed? Yes, they were his parents. They motivated him in plenty of other things than just army activities.. like those boys! Whatever their names were.

    Patryck used to protest this, saying a child of Tord's age shouldn't be so exposed to the world. That argument ended once the couple noticed their son's growing interest in some.. sexual anime art form. Patryck seemed to give up at that point, finally backing off and hoping the training would distract Tord from his leisure activities. That or maybe his friends would find out, and Tord would be to embarrassed to ever look at it again. Regardless, is was revolting and Patryck hated finding it in their room. It was about time Tord got his own damn room, he couldn't sleep on a couch for his entire teenage life! That's just what Paul and Patryck were doing too, other than roaming and being general idiots. 

    Tord's room was small, far from his fathers but close to the center of the building or the center 'garden' of the base. No one considered it to be much of a garden anyway, it was mangled with weeds and other disgusting plants to even be considered a half decent garden. But, it was just large enough to hide a storage room for any unused objects or gardening supplies. Tord used to use it as one of his old playhouses or get away spot, so some of his old toys were possibly in that room, too.

At least Tord's new room could give him a chance to visit that area in his free time. Other than the size and location, it was also recently painted deep red, their son's beloved color. A lighter red bed sat against the wall across from the door, a empty dresser was standing next to the door, and a black nightstand was next to the dark frame of the bed. Tord's red hoodie was hung up against the back of a chair that was seated to fit a dark desk that resigned across from the bed. Black, grey and white shirts lined the most of the closet, and boxes of Tord's other things piled around the room in random places.

    "Do you think he'll like it?" Paul mumbled, placing down the last of Tord's things onto the bed.

    His husband gasped jokingly, hand held to his chest as if he were offended, "what teenage boy wouldn't be happy in his own room! That his fathers made, excuse you." As he pretended to play dead, his body jumped to a sudden, soft Norwegian singing. "He's coming! Come on." 

    Patryck jolted forward, taking a grip of Paul's wrist and practically threw himself and his husband out into the hall. Both men sliding and falling against the wall with a decent crash. The taller one scrambled to his feet first, gasping for air as he looked around for sight of the small boy he raised. 

    "Tord!" They shouted in a happy union. Tord himself shouted back in shock, not expecting the outburst. 

    Patryck ignored the blood on his son, and pulled the boy into a tight hug. "We have something to show you," he sang with joy as an arm hooked around Tord's shoulders, "trust us, you'll love it, kiddo." He watched the boy raise an annoyed eyebrow, but nodded regardless to please his father. The arm around the Norwegian's shoulders tugged him a long, the owners eyes glancing down at Paul and nodding his head along. 

    Paul grumbled out of pure annoyance and motivated himself to stand. Rushing to the door before Tord and Patryck so neither had to open the door. He was the first to walk inside, back pressed against the door as he pushed it open. Patryck flicking on the lightswitch beside the door and extending an arm inside. 

    "Welcome to your new room!" They sang, nervous smiles painted on their faces for the awaited reaction that never came.

    Tord walked in, hands sliding into his pockets as he looked around. It wasn't bad or anything, it was the events prior to seeing such a 'massive' change. "Ah thanks. Looks great!" He faked the smile, he knew how soft Patryck was, "it was about time I moved closer to um.. you know who?" He shrugged, arms and elbows stiff as his smile strained more and more. God, who knew smiling hurt this much? Tord wished smiling was never a fucking thing to begin with. Was that man he killed smiling? Was he happy? No, he wasn't, but did that even matter?

    His taller father lost his grin but didn't push the subject. Maybe Patryck knew it was something else, and not the room. Or maybe Patryck had high expectations for Tord's reaction that Tord didn't meet. Paul looked for the most part, unfazed. As if he didn't really care if Tord liked it or not and only appeared to care if Tord would spare Patryck's feelings. The silence was unpleasant and only became more strained as Patryck choked a soft "I'll leave you be" and left Paul and his son alone in the room.

    "Tord," The Norwegian groaned fully ready to take the lecture, "You could of least a little more considerate of him. He is doing his best to make you happy, kid." 

    What did Paul know about happiness.

-◇-

 

    "I saw this bird today, it kinda reminded me of you." 

    The freshly cut grass was scratchy as it rubbed against his neck, the cool smell of already setting dew filling the small space between the world above his resting body and the dirt below. The night sky speckled with stars, ready to hide from the sun's blasting rays and back into the depth of space. 

    Edd and Matt were busy tonight, so the meet up just so happened to just be himself and Tom. As much as he hated to say it, and how annoying Tom often was, he wasn't all too bad to chat with.

    He gripped the cool earth, pressing his palms down to push his bodyweight up. "Oh? Is it because I look as pretty as a bird?" The soft smile rested on his face as he glanced at his palm, rubbing off the dirt and mud to stare at the marks left from pressure. 

    "Nah, that's lame." The blue man adjusted, crumpling up his blue hoodie into a small pillow and even using his own hands behind his head to get comfortable. "It was red, and had a horrible singing voice." Tom snickered as if to himself his joke was actually funny or maybe he was drunk and insults were jokes at any given point. Most likely, Tord was so used to insults, that's the only thing the world was anymore. One bully constantly picking on him for his problems. "Hey commie, you're not actually butthurt over a joke, are you?"

    He wanted to reply in an equally snarky manner, but the nickname threw him for a loop. "Did you just call me 'Commie'?" Ah, well, Tom wouldn't be too wrong, would he? But that had Tord thinking.. for all the people that communism failed with, how could someone get it to work? He knew he could make it better than it ever was.

    He didn't even notice Tom was now sitting up, taking yet another sip from his flask. "Sure did, Commie."

    "Well then, Witness. You know me well, I am a proud and prideful communist. Good work." The light punch to Tom's arm was a cue for the man to dramatically fall over in his drunken state. Maybe Tom was funny after all, just maybe.

   Head tilted, and with a wink and a raise of his flask, he laughed. Shoulders shaking, warmth in his smile and life in his tears. 

    That was pure happiness, something Tord could never possibly understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the ending of this was a fav to write tbh ,,,


	8. Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make mistakes, you don't regret.

    Stale food was a normal thing that he was just used to by now. So the taste of warm, savory food sliding down his throat made him groan in comfort. He hadn't eaten anything good in months since the heated fight, or assault, as some called it. Tord didn't like to reflect too much on it as much as others did. They all saw what happened, they all saw what Tord did. Restricted meals, outside time, and his basic freedoms were all restricted since. His training for himself and his fathers were all increased, yet to Tord, he was the victim. 

    He recalled joining a few base friends for free time instead of slipping out to find one of his colorful friends. He roamed the halls and chatted, all too comfortable in his own shoes to let his guard down.

    He didn't know her real name, but her nametag read Wilson. She was a lively German woman with a compulsive lying disorder. She was one of those he talked with that afternoon, and even then she was explaining how she had gotten into some beef with some other division and how scared of the confrontation she actually was. Tord admired the honesty but frowned down upon the coward that hid behind the lies. It was only due time when that said group found the poor German girl, as soon as they found her they found grip on her long black hair and pulled her back into the pack of snares. The context was fuzzy, Tord barely able to understand the details of what they were saying. Being from a Germanic tongue, some words were very familiar. Some words threw him in a loop, but he was able to grasp that if he didn't act, they weren't planning to give her just a few bruises and carry on.

    The rest was up to who was telling the story.

    Patryck would be overdramatic, but more bias to Tord and how worried he was about his son's minor scratched compared to the mass.. death. What if the death was Tord? That was all Patryck could think of, and even months after, it still makes Patryck sick to his stomach to think about.

    Paul would be blunt and to the point, telling how Tord killed an entire division of Leader's army on his own. The rest of the details didn't matter. He was too busy worrying over Patryck and that funny red symbol that Tord keeps drawing.

    Leader would only tell what he heard, which was basically every detailed but overdramatized.

    Edd, Tom, and Matt would never know what happened, other than explaining that Tord came to them with random scars from his 'cat,' and then vanished off the face of the earth. Tom didn't even bring up that Tord mentioned that Paul was allergic to cats, not even a week before he vanished.

    Tord didn't care, didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about it, and certainly didn't want to deal with it. He killed an entire division of Leader's army with his own bare hands. Painting out symbols of his shadow in pure blood, being the only thing Tord cared about that day.

    It looked similar to an R. With no backbone, and the shape of Tord's horns at the top, and no matter what was going on, Tord always made sure it was red. To Tord, this symbol meant him. His accomplishments, his goals, his property. To everyone else, this symbol meant Tord. His willingness to spill blood, his rebellious actions, his accomplishments of murder. Leader had a bicker with Tord over his symbol, and that was completely reasonable. It challenged him and his army, Tord challenged him and his leadership. 

    The act couldn't go unpunished and Tord seemed to accept it without mind. Being basically chained to the base wasn't much as long as he could walk around as a reminder. A constant reminder of the bloody day. Some rumor to see Tord standing in that same empty division, laughing at his own accomplishments. None of that was confirmed though. Only rumors whispered between soldiers so that it's known not to fuck around with Leader's pet.

    To be honest, the food was the only true punishment too. He hated the bitter bread and distilled water, it made his training more exhausting without proper nutrition. Well.. actually. That wasn't it, was it? No, Tord began to realize he used that as his excuse.

    The worse punishment ever was not having Edd to run to. Tom to laugh at. Matt to relax with. He missed his friends, and nothing would be more redeeming than to see them officially after he finished his first good god damn meal in months.

    "If you eat any faster," his bushy-eyebrowed father began, "you'll choke yourself."

    "Maybe that's his goal, Paul."

    "Unlikely." He retorted, "I think he wants to see his friends first." At least he wasn't wrong, "Plus, I want to show him how to fly before any of us die."

    He almost forgot his fathers were pilots. Well, they were almost always watching planes take off together, wishing that were them. Ever since the crash when Tord was found, both pilots were revoked of their licenses and grounded for good. Leader couldn't risk the two deaths, with how close they were to Tord. Their death would break Tord's 'training.' He couldn't have that, now could he? Leader wanted his weapon to follow him, to praise him, and nothing else, if the two died, Tord would depend on him to quickly.

    He coughed lightly, a bit of fruit getting stuck in his throat, pulling him out of the moment and to look at his fathers. 

    "I warned you, kiddo." He smiled lightly, picking at his own food until it was entirely gone. Tord noticed Paul and Patryck still received larger portions than himself, but he couldn't complain. He was on a regulated diet anyway, with multiple small meals throughout the day. "You've been quiet, what's on your mind?"

    There was much on his mind and the mental imprint wasn't what he knew Paul would want to hear. So he aimed his thoughts to be as simple as possible, "I miss my friends."  He was picking gently at his food, wondering what they would think if they were here with him. Would they share their stories? Moments with his friends were the highlights of his childhood. 

    Neither of his fathers spoke as the dinner continued. Slight glances, small talk shared here and there, ending with Tord standing in his room staring at the ceiling. He grabbed a metal hanger and broke it, bending the metal into one long rod with the hook in the middle. He held it up, and stuck it into the popcorn ceiling and dragged until shapes began to form. Why was he here? What was he doing anyway? He should be outside running around, stealing candies or games from stores with his friends. Laughing with his friend's arms around his shoulders. Spray painting stone walls and doing drugs while running from the police like an idiot would do. Instead, he was here. He was domesticated, forcefully. Tord wondered what happens when a domestic animal runs away. Does it' owner cry? Does it's owner care? Will the owner move on a few days later and get a new replacement? Sounds so. No one as dull loves property knowing it can easily be replaced later.

    His phone vibrated in his pocket, a beat that Edd mixed himself played through the speaker with an airy sound. Tord dropped his sore arm, tossing the metal rod onto his bed and roaming his pockets for his phone. He pulled the device out and stared at the number before swiping the small green button. 

    "Tord! You haven't responded to my calls in ages, asshole." 

    Tord expected to hear Edd, but brushed it aside and shrugged it off. Tom had a thing for never charging his phone anyway. "Mhm, I have been very busy, old friend. Family issues, they pulled me out to be home-schooled. I should be back soon."

    If Tom could have rolled his eyes, Tord would have heard it. "Yeah yeah, school is shit. I don't care about that." Says the same person who had an anxiety attack over a failing grade.. or maybe that's why he didn't care. "Edd, Matt and I are heading out for.. I forgot what exactly. I don't care either. You coming to join this time? Edd seems to miss you." 

    It was like Tom knew his weakness. 

    "Yeah.. yeah I'll be there. I'm guessing you are all at Edd's as usual. I'll be there soon."

    He said his goodbyes and listened to the click when Tom hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket and looking back up at the ceiling. He only had an H so far. He'd finish his self-project later.

-◇-

    "-and that's when I took off my make up and said, where?" The ginger held a hand under his jaw to display his face with a classic smile. The four friends just driving endlessly and laughing at stupid stories.

    The trees breezed by the windows like they were running from something. Tord glancing up and down, to stare deep into the passing forest and back up to the bright blue sky. Actually, this blue wasn't so pretty being so bright. The strawberry blonde was more fond of grey skies that didn't bring rain, just loomed above like a comforting blanket.

    "What about you, Tord?" Edd suggested, looking at his golden-eyed friend through the mirror. "Any fun stories lately? I haven't heard from you in ages, and something besides the cat story." The four found each others suffering to be funny, but for now, they just wanted to be thankful to have everyone back together again.

    "Nothing much really. My dads both had an increase in dad jokes lately. Well, at least one of them." It wasn't an entire lie. Paul did make more jokes than usual lately, and it was annoying the hell out of Tord and Patryck together.

    The other three seemed to cringe but share the laughter. Matt remarking about how those were always the worst, Tom mentioning that now he knew where Tord got his jokes from, and Edd just shaking his head in silent laughter. He needed this, he needed these three with him for the rest of his life.

    One of the stops on their adventure was the shops, the boys running between stores seeing what caught their eyes or looked stupid enough to laugh about. Somewhere along the line, Tord found himself with a new journal he bought himself while the others at least had a bag of items.. or like the typical rich boy he was, Matt with at least ten bags to fill half the trunk with. Full of new shirts and other items the boys most likely wouldn't see under Matt's massive gray hoodie(that sometimes eh exchanged for a purple one. All three agreed that Matt looked better in purple, but something drew Matt from wearing it too often). Matt wouldn't shut up about what he bought as they walked back to the car. Edd sipping on a canned cola he bought as he listened lightly, details slipping past the fizzy drink and being eaten alive by the sugar. Tom didn't really speak about what he bought at all, but whenever Tord walked near the bag, Tom moved it to another hand. Maybe Tord was just going crazy and the item was heavy. 

    Edd popped the trunk and the boys tossed their things into the trunk. Tord keeping his new journal in his pockets instead because who knew, that damn trunk could eat it alive at almost any moment. He got himself seated as the other three adjusted the trunk to fit Matt's junk, and moved into the car into their usual spots again. Tord wondered how everyone sat when he was gone. Was it the same? He was only gone for a short while.. maybe nothing changed and he's being dramatic. Just enjoy the moment he thought, leaning back and looking out the window, the laughter of his friends and the soft air blowing from the AC enough to put him to sleep.

 

-◇-

 

    He woke up in a familiar home, the smell of alcohol unfriendly to his nose. He sat up, pushing the blanket off himself and looking around for anyone around- "Good morning, sunshine lollipops. You passed out on us." His friends didn't know where he lived, so they almost always just dropped him off where ever. When he was asleep, Tord assumed they would throw him out and he would have to figure it out when he woke up. But no, instead, he was at Tom's house. How he got in here could only be- "I had to carry you in. Matt didn't want to break a nail and Edd said you were too heavy. Pretty sure Edd was just too lazy, but I don't blame him. Do you want a drink? I got some water.. alcohol... that's basically it." 

    "Ah... water would be nice." He really needed to get more sleep, he was just so relaxed and so exhausted the drive put him to sleep. "How long was I out?"

    "A few hours? Two or three at least. I didn't expect you to be such a heavy sleeper. Matt was shouting the entire ride and you slept through all of it." Tom joked, pulling a water bottle from out of the flimsy plastic wrapping. Seems like Tom never really took the water out of its package, he just let it sit. Whatever, water was water, and Tord was thankful anyway. The blue man tossed the water, plopping on the spot on the couch where Tord's feet used to be. 

    It.. wasn't hard to notice Tom basically raised himself. His mom was a bowling ball and was almost never around, his dad was a pineapple that died a few years back thanks to Matt. Tom was struggling to make it through the years. He couldn't help but admire the strength he had. "Thanks for letting me crash here. I really owe you one." 

    He didn't respond, Tom only grabbed the remote and browsed through static until he found semi-decent channels. Maybe now wouldn't be a bad time to let go of some thoughts.

    "I've.. had it rough lately-"

    "You don't own a cat." Tom sighed, laying his head back as more static played. "I don't understand. Why do you think it's fine to just lie to our friends? Matt's too much of a narcissist to care, but why Edd and me?" The blue man put the remote down, shoving his hands into his pockets and grumbling. "Why do you have to hide? What do you have to hide?"

    It was true that he's been hiding secrets, but he didn't honestly expect Tom to come up to him and be so forward about it. 

    Tord opened his mouth and hesitated. What am I supposed to say? Tell him I'm some crazy leader's pet? Tord stood up as words stumbled from his mouth, "I should call my dad. He.. might be worried. You know him! Haha.." He grabbed his phone without looking at Tom or waiting for a reply, and left to the bathroom to make his call to Patryck. To his luck, Patryck didn't seem to panic this time. He seemed sad Tord was returning home so soon. Curse him for wanting his son to be a normal kid for once. Curse Tord for wanting the same exact thing. 

    The call was quick, and it left Tord staring himself in the mirror. He didn't want to go back outside and face Tom again, he wanted to curl into a ball and hide away from everything and everyone. He... he had to tell someone. If there was anyone who would listen, it would be the one person who had nothing either.


	9. Birds in Cages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom happens to love birds, you know.

    Giggles of his partner tickled his lips, hands gripped his waist and pulled him closer to worship his company. You'd think after an hour of snuggling, Patryck would let him go. This wasn't the case, and Paul knew he was trapped. He didn't dare lie and say he disliked it, because every moment with his husband felt like bliss. He could lay here in the warmth for ages, and as long as Tord was out of the nest, they could. It felt so sweet, something he earned and deserved. Both had been together for what felt like ages while the reward felt uncomparable to anything but their shared care for Tord. His life was bliss in Patryck's company. Though on the back of his mind, Paul couldn't help but worry slightly for his son. "It's been a while, shouldn't we call and check in on Tord?" 

    Patryck pushed his body up and held himself with his own elbow, staring down at the smaller man with amusement. "Oh so who is the worry wart now?" He tapped a fingertip against Paul's nose, letting out a soft boop noise. Paul sighed at this, lately, he couldn't help himself. He raised Tord, he didn't want the boy to get hurt. He felt as if the only true way to keep Tord safe was to hold a gun to the head of anyone who dared to come close to his son. 

    Patryck was usually this way, Paul even recalled times where he would message Tord every ten minutes once Tord got his first phone. Tord blew up about how embarrassing it was to constantly text someone when out with friends. Patryck and Paul knew what he really meant, though. "You're oddly happy with him not being here." He mumbled, kissing Patryck's hand and then sitting up himself. 

    "He's a teenage boy, Paul. He needs to let out some energy eventually." 

    Busy eyebrows raised, but Paul remembered Tord's energy as a toddler. He remembered that little boy tying his red hoodie above his shoulders and running around the base thinking he was some sort of superhero. Leader busted the boy for it, but it was so nice to see Tord have some sort of fun, and smile the way Patryck loved. Nothing meant more to the taller husband than seeing Tord's golden eyes glowing brightly. What Paul could confirm, is that Patryck hated to let Tord down. He tried so hard for that boy, and sometimes it did nothing to break the static frown that Leader has carved into Tord's face. 

    Oh, I'm just stressing too much, he figured. I'd be much happier if I kept my focus on Paul.

    Kisses and soft words pulled Paul away from his thoughts, letting his husband's comfort absorb the moment. Every little-shared smile was worshiped and savored, the other soaking it up like a wilting flower. 

    Then came the boy himself calling.

-◇-

    He stalked out of the bathroom, horns bowed in shame of his cowardly retreat. Why had he jumped to drastically? Tord couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was the support that he never saw before, it scared him. Tord didn't know how to react or treat the situation. He was sure at this point the blue hoodied man would throw him out, but when Tord returned to the living room, he glanced over into the kitchen and watched the said man with a cup of bird seed. He thought Tom would have wanted to talk about what happened, but nope, this was what he got instead.

    For the first time in Tord's life, someone other than his parent's showed that they cared for him.

    Tord paused before he spoke, "I didn't take you for a bird lover." Coughing awkwardly as dark eyes stared at him and cursed his soul for a living. "I thought you'd like-" He choked up when his hand was pulled from his jacket pocket, and Tom poured a little bit off of the bird seed into his cupped hand. "Ah.. you know.." Tom seemed too rough to even like birds.

    "What, dogs? They are way too rough," the other snickered in reply. "Plus," the stress showed onto his tanned skin, "I figured you would trust me more if I told you a little more of myself."  That was a first, at least for Tord. But he figured Tom would want to chip at Tord's surface until the Norwegian told him everything. He really should have expected this to happen.

    Something Tord had picked up on was that all of his friends had this whole new world surrounding them. A world Tord felt safe and comfortable in for once in his life, even if it wasn't his home. Matt usually showed him the beauty in life, and what was out there to live for. Even despite Matt having a narcissistic view of everything. Tom was always full of surprises yet they were always so classic and typical of him. Like one doesn't expect such a relaxed man to be such a way, but for what Tom has been through it's completely readable. Edd was godlike sometimes, and even though the best fake smiles, he'd know. Maybe he was more like a Santa- knowing when you slept or now and all that childish junk. Tord was afraid one day Edd would see through just a sad face and notice the lies. 

    According to his friends, Tord himself was a chameleon. No matter what happened Tord usually just adapted easily to anything, but in his eyes, he just sucked it up and dealt with whatever was going on. He wasn't as impressive as his friends, he wasn't as active as his friends. He'd prefer to sit back and just... watch. He didn't mind if he got labeled as the silent type.  

    The snap back to reality he didn't mind very much. a hand pulled lightly ay his shoulder and along his feet glided to follow the younger friend.

    Before he knew it, he was standing in a blue room. Almost too much blue for him to handle. Tord covered his eyes, overwhelmed with the color and Tom's laughter.  When he moved his hands, he couldn't believe what was sitting on Tom's head.

    A Pigeon.

     His eyebrow raised, and his free empty hand fell to rest on his hip. Cockiness in his tone followed by her sister named confusion. "Is that a fucking Pigeon?" Tord snorted, "I expected a falcon or something cool." He was generally disappointed by a damn bird. Here is what he meant by Tom was loaded with those stupid surprises. 

    "Nah," The other laughed, removing the bird and placing her back on the bed. "This is Rouge the Pigeon. She's rather nice, well," he paused, laying a little bird seed in front of the pigeon, "as long as you need her. Hey, come here. You might just like her."

    He couldn't protest, he couldn't do anything other than listening. The Norwegian stalked close. Getting on his knees next to the pigeon and with shivering hands, watched her eat. 

    "I actually owned a few Finches before her. I've always really loved birds, you know?" 

    Tord hummed and nodded, using his other hand to gently stroke at Rouge's feathers. He watched her ease, and soon stare directly into his own golden eyes. Upon a closer look, Tord noted her entire right side was discolored and.. disfigured.

    "I think she was shot by someone. I found her injured in my backyard. Her feathers either never grew back, she picked them off because anxiety or they grew back oddly colored." 

    He backed off, letting the bird eat up the remaining bird seed in his palm. "Where did her name come from?" Tom's shrug wasn't all too assuring. Tord couldn't believe that someone would just name something and forget why. The name ran through his head for a while until it dawned on him, and just maybe Tom either knew more than he was leading on or just a crazy coincidence. 

    "I don't, er, remember exactly why I named her that. I just remember it's French or something." Tom picked up the bird once more and placed her back into her wide cage, which Tord noticed, didn't have a door. Just a set up to where if she wanted to leave she could. Only a little climbing and hard work to get there. Tom really was a softie for this stupid.. bird. Just like him, and he laughed. Tom's eyes flicked to Tord for a moment in confusion and watched the Norwegian stand. The britt didn't even flinch when Tord's finger tapped his nose.

    "Ah, classic stupid Tom. Name something, and you don't even remember why."

        There were so many words that Tord wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask, but the doorbell's harsh ringing pulled both boys out of the room and to the front door. Tord found himself dragging his feet and taking it easy, taking in all the sights Tom's home had to offer. There were pictures lining the walls, of younger Tom, members of his family, and.. birds. Lots of birds. Who knew Tom was such a bird lover? He recalled as boys, Tom would outcast himself to play in the sandbox by himself, letting the birds land on him as he laughed and smiled. Tom never truly frowned back then, all until his father died. Still, how did a pineapple have kids anyway? Why was this a question Tord was still asking himself? How come every time he thought of Tom he found himself overthinking. Like Tom himself, was a bird. Misty, and something he'd never understand.

    Even by the front door, pictures of birds lined the mudroom. He really should have noticed this sooner. His eyes drifted among the pictures until the Birdman himself opened the door. The smiling face of Patryck appeared, greeting Tom with his usual soft tilted bow and handshake. Tom seemed used to it, so he went along with it and carried on. 

    "Well," Tom muttered as the other passed by him and stepped outside, "I guess I'll be seeing you later, Tord." A smile crept across his face, but a million words spoke from voided eyes. The Norwegian couldn't help but smile at such a strange idiot.

    "See you, Witness." With that comment, Tom stuck his nose up and shut the door, leaving Tord alone with his father. "I guess we're.. heading back to base. I mean unless you have anywhere else more boring in mind."

    Hurtful it was to see Tord so repelled to the thought of returning home. It wasn't a choice, Tord had to go. Otherwise, Patryck felt like he would have his own son's blood on his hands. His son. Maybe not his flesh and blood, but he raised this Norwegian boy as his own. Maybe every so often leader dug his filthy hands into their pretty little family and scratched his nails deep into their guts. It felt like a sick game where Patryck was running and getting nowhere. All the meanwhile, his nightmares, and visions would only become worse, each past appearance of his son would become more, and more distorted. 

    "Are you coming? I had a long day and I'd just love to get home." 

    Patryck shook out of his thoughts to look over at Tord who had folded his arms and leaned on the top of the car. The tree of a father nodded and made his way over, Tord hopping in the passenger's side without a further word. Patryck's glances didn't even seem to bother him, something clicked today in this boys mind. Something he never thought of before. Patryck watched this and settled uneasily, arms stiff and locked, shoulders cautiously raised to just flinch every glance the duo shared. The drive began, and Tord let his mind think freely.

    The shadowed green trees zipped past, colorful signs with words Tord could care less about, a beautiful deep blue and dark dusted lavender toned sky loomed just above, a solid blood red line running across the skyline where the sun laid. It put Tord at ease again. The soft luminescence of the dashboard to the dimming light of the sun. So many colors he has grown so familiar too, so many colors he found warmth in. So many colors that reached out and called him out. He flinched, goosebumps riding up his own skin, he wasn't allowed to think this way. To think so freely. To think of paradise, his paradise, his freedom. Maybe he was looking at it all the wrong way. His fate was his, his time was his, and Tord knew only he had the say on what happened to him and his life.

    Nobody owns me. I am no one's slave. I am their King. I will be the King.

    "Tom owns a bird. He named it Rouge, which is French for red." Tord fiddled with the seatbelt, digging his nails into the texture just to feel the goosebumps it would give. Finding ease in the chill that ran up his spine and flowed through his arms. The tingles were nothing compared to pain anyway. It was only a sign to Tord that he was alive and his body was working. "She's hurt on her right wing." Patryck flinched, not going unnoticed by Tord. "He placed her in a cage today, father."

    Patryck seemed uneasy, a sick feeling gathering in his stomach. "Sometimes... it's safer that way." He removed one hand from the wheel to rub his chest lightly. "When things are hurt-"

    "The cage didn't have a door, but there was a path to get out. She can roam the world freely." His finger drifted over the buttons lining the door handle, pressing gently to open the window. Slowly moving one hand outside to feel the wind blow against his hand. "If she is smart, she can escape for good."

    "Tord-"

 

-◇-

 

    Tord started to visit Tom's place more and more. Sometimes just to watch Rouge, sometimes to listen to Tom get drunk and ramble for ages about something stupid. It became a coping tool after a while to just have someone to talk to that had half an interest in whatever Tord was thinking. It made the other boys jealous of their time together, to the point where Matt begged the duo to break off and spend time with the others. Basically, pay more attention to Matt, he's beautiful. In fair trade, Tord was spending his after group time with said ginger. Which was a first for Tord. He had never been to Matt's house before and it shocked him to just see the massive difference between Matt's and his own living style.

    "Mom!" Matt called, extending out the "o" a little more than usual. "Where is my black nail polish?" The ginger called down the stairs, Tord staring out the large window of Matt's room rather than listening to the gingers. He almost forgot Matt's family was filthy rich, and Matt basically got everything he wanted. Tord wished his life was as much of a luxury as this. But alas, he laid in a bed of rags every night. At least he had a bed, right? Better than being homeless. "Ah ha! Here it is! I think black suits you, Tord. I wanted to do gold.. it would have helped bring out your eyes but.." 

    "Black is a fine shade to use, Matt." He didn't even know why he agreed to let Matt paint his nails. It wasn't the first time, but every time Matt gave him a complete makeover, Tord's hands would feel like a newborn's bottom and it would freak everyone out. "I don't like my eyes much anyway."

    The teal eyed ginger was taken back by this, holding a hand against his chest in an offended manner, "well, they aren't anything like my lovely eyes. I do think they suit your complexion. Now, black or red?"

    Tord raised an eyebrow as if that was even a question that he should have to respond too. Every time, Tord would choose red. "Red." The words mumbled as his hand was stolen from him and the cold jojoba oil touched his skin. 

    "I picked a new red for you. It's called a linear holographic." Matt shook the bottle lightly and squinted at the name on the bottle, "Norepinephrine, it's a Starrily polish. Basically, I'm turning you into an edgy rainbow." He laughed as he began to paint the base coat.

    "Great, my own friend. Betrayed me and made me look gay."

    "Ahem," Matt shrugged, "not like you don't look gay already."

    Matt was the one who often made Tord wonder where this world would be if everyone were like him. Honestly... Tord didn't want to think of a world where it would only be Matt. Talk about literal nightmare fuel. The entire world would be just mentioning how the other looked and... Tord shivered in disgust. One Matt was enough.

    "Ah! Don't move!"

    This was going to be one long-

    "Hey uh." What. "You're not brushing Edd and I to the side, right, Tord?" What? It wasn't supposed to-, "I know, I know, you wanted to smooth on past me. I get the game, Tord."

    Tord was lost and confused, and collected his words with a groan, "I've been having a hard time at home, Matt. I don't want that backlash coming back onto you and Edd. Tom is the only one who can really take it. You know?"

    "So... you ARE gay?"

    "For god's sake, Matt." Here we go again, "I'm a murderer, the best sexuality out there." The best part of that joke was that it wasn't a joke at all, and Matt found it funny. Tord was shocked through all the moving that Matt hadn't messed up his nails yet, and Tord couldn't help but to admire Matt's inner perfectionist. He discovered his friend could actually create semi-decent things for once in his life.

    "Just remember to spend time with Edd too, okay?" Matt smiled warmly when he fished, ruffling Tord's hair like a dog as the words sang out of his mouth. "He really is happy to see you with us. I'm personally happy with my own beautiful face." He displayed his face once more, posing like a blogger world for "Instagram" shots. From this, Tord grew uneasy and sank in his seat.

-◇-

 

    Tord had another meeting with Leader today. This time, Leader punished the Norwegian boy by beating him with a metal pipe. All for simply talking back to him. The pain wasn't much of anything at this point, physically at least. Each blow made Tord question more and more why he was even here to begin with. Tord was revolted that even Paul was afraid to rebel. Anyone who cared as much as he said he does, would fight for the freedom of his family. He would recognize the dangers that occur around him. Was it too much to wish for freedom? Was life to bring backlash at Tord to direct him that life was just one straight path with no options? Tord's mind became a frenzy of questions, all until one tiny talk with Paul where he exploded for the first time.

    "Just think of it, our whole family, free! I could be free!"

    Paul lifted his head, confused eyes and eyebrows raised. That wasn't the best plan, and he wasn't willing to go with it. "Tord, sometimes it's best if we just stick to our guns or what we are good at-"

    The Norwegian growled like a rabid animal, he was locked in a cage of self-destruction and abuse, and his own father could care less. "Well I say we start acting, or I'm running for my life," and he already knew how to do it. What he would do, how his escape would play out. With or without Paul and Patryck. Tord only had to wait until school was finally done. "You can follow me or be left behind. I could care less either way."

    With that, Paul watched his son exit the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Never before in his life had Tord felt so much... anger.

 

-◇-

 

    "Borrrringg..." He flung his wrist and began to flip through channels again, "Hey, Tord. What movies do you like? I bet it's Sharknado." Edd teased, Tord through the dark makeup snickered, "or maybe emo movies, since your all emo now and stuff, you know?" It wasn't his fault that he hadn't been there when Tord was beaten, he wouldn't even remotely know about it unless Tord didn't cover up with extreme makeup.

    "I'm just testing the style, dammit. Let me live." Tord groaned, leaning his head back to.. let himself understand. All these years, all this time. All these hidden lies, what if Edd knew? Would that change something? Would that cast him out? The best he could do at this point was cross his fingers and pray that Edd believed him. "It.. maybe won't last so long."

    "Matt said that with the makeup and nail polish jazz." Edd stuck his tongue out as he flipped through channels, seeming to mock Matt's playful nature. "At least Matt has a hobby, right?"

    "I have a hobby."

    Tord watched his friend stop channel flipping and just stare at him with two big eyes. Still sticking out his tongue like a dumbfounded idiot. He looked like a fucking puppy, dammit. "I.. like to go to the shooting range. I like guns?" Tord raised his shoulders lightly, forcing a confused smile to see if it remotely sounded acceptable to Edd. The stillness became awkward, and Tord didn't know what else to say. "I also... really like hentai." 

    A playful punch hit Tord's shoulder as Edd's laughter sang it's warm tune. "Guns and hentai. Okay, listen, I didn't know you were a hardcore anime fan!" As a joke, the chocolate haired man flipped until he actually managed to find a show that aired, and hopped to his feet to dance to the beat and pretend to play as the characters in real life. It was funny because Edd couldn't dance. Sure, Edd was one hell of an artist, but performing arts would never be his thing. To be quite honest, no matter how bad Edd was at dancing, no one would really care. Just because Tord didn't join, didn't mean he wasn't laughing his rear off. He enjoyed having.. a good friend like Edd. But something felt so different when they talked. It was almost like Edd was Tord, just completely reversed. 

    "Now that's what I call skill. Skills to pay the bills." 

    "If you say so, my friend."

    That was something Edd surely had more of than him, more than Tord could ever dream. Friends, the ability to easily walk up to anyone and make them smile. Or whenever Edd did something, the entire city knew. It was as if this entire world revolved around Edd and what he did in his life. Tord wanted something like that. He wanted the world to love him and he didn't have to do anything other than smile and wave. How easy life would be for him if it was all like that. 

    "I forgot," Edd began and slipped to sit back down next to Tord, "I bought you a gift from the shops earlier this week. I saw it and thought you had to have it." He reached aside the couch and fiddled with the large drawer of the side table. Tord picked himself to peek a little and pushed himself back down when Edd swung around with a gray plastic bag in hand. Tord took the plastic bag and object when it was handed to him and was shocked by the weight of whatever it was. "Don't ask about the price, it doesn't matter." Just being thankful was usually enough for Edd, wasn't it? Tord's fingers crumpled at the wrapping, pulling at it until it came loose and revealed what appeared to be a bright red robot. 

    "See? It has your horns!" 

    It was made of some sort of metal that was painted to be a glossy cherry red. Edd was right though, on top of the robot's head were two horns. 

    "First, it rips off my haircut. Second, he has a jetpack and I want it." Tord smiled, though. "I.. like it a lot. Thanks, Edd." 

    "Oh, I knew you'd like it." The green one cheered, smiled and clapped his hands. He seemed so pleased by Tord's simple reaction. Honestly, any reaction was soaked up by his best friends. Tord wondered if this toy ever had a real model. If not, he'd like to build a giant version of it one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I forgot to mention this story has a poll! If you'd like to take it, just ask me! You need to create a Quotev account AND click share your responces with author(me) for me to see your responces though :(
> 
> thanks for reading!


	10. Keepsake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie dates are lame.

   Tord was looking forward to waking up in the mornings, which was unusual because last month Tord kept telling himself how much he hated breathing sometimes. He would lay in bed staring up at the letters he began to carve in the ceiling. Sometimes he would stand in the halls, soldiers in grey pushing past him and scurrying to their dorms or rooms without word or question. It didn't appear to Tord how comfortable he could get by just laying down and not thinking could be until Matt showed him. Not to sleep, not to think, but to relax. If there was one thing Matt taught him, it was self-care. It made the day easier to face each morning. It wasn't evil to want to get up and look in a mirror, to sometimes find yourself nice looking. It was completely healthy, and acceptable. Well, as long as you weren't making out with your own reflection and trying to- ah, that's quite enough.

   For a while, Tord even began to wear chapstick. To him, it was so strange, but it wasn't as crazy as random colored lipstick. He remembered one night he slept over at Matt's place, where the ginger slipped in front of his friends and gave him the small gift.

   "What the hell is this. Why does it have a raspberry on it." He looked at the small tube and twisted it in his fingers, the glossy material reflecting the lights back into his eyes. It was honestly disturbing, just slightly. It was a red container with a yellow stripe and a raspberry at the end of the stripe. The red was pretty, but the goldish yellow clashed in an uncomfortable manner. It reminded Tord of his eyes, and he disliked it. He looked back up into bright teal eyes as Tord's own face twisted to bewilderment. One, he'd hardly ever been given gifts before. Maybe that one robot from Edd, but that was it. "Matt is this-"

   Matt shushed him, tossing a hand over the strawberry blonde's mouth in laughter. "Goodness no! See, I told you, you're gay." He patted Tord's shoulder and then released him, "it's raspberry chapstick." Sure looked like it.

   Tord raised a finger and shook it, "Correction, my dads are gay." Living in their room so long, Tord was bound to find some interesting things. But he's heard of chapstick, just hadn't had a single clue as to why Matt was giving this to him. His eyes drifted back down to the container, "why chapstick? What's the point? It just gets all waxy, and I'm bound to rub it off in the end anyway."

   Matt seemed offended, the prominent 'ugh' and hiss on his tongue was annoying. "You're not letting it settle, idiot." The ginger took the chapstick back for a moment to remove the clear plastic covering and opened the cap, twisting the small circle at the bottom until the waxy product appeared at the top. "Here, pucker up!"

    "Bloody hell Matt, no!" He pushed Matt's hand away, cringing at the ginger's pout. "Okay! Okay fine!" Screw Matt and his stupid babyfaces. He tilted his chin up, allowing his friend to hold Tord's head steady as he applied the chapstick to his bottom lip. At first, he didn't like it, but the smell was.. nice. It was slightly sour and tangy. He couldn't really complain about something that made life a bit prettier. "Now what?"

    "Rub your lips together, silly." Matt twisted the circle again and the product vanished into the tube. He fit the red cap back on and placed it into Tord's cold hands, watching the awkward face his friend made trying to do as told. "Now leave it for a bit, let it settle. It always feels waxy at first." He watched as Tord looked over the tube, opened the lid, and found entertainment from the small twist that pushed the chapstick up. After a few good minutes of quiet, Tord popped his lips and felt confused. It really did dry down quite nicely and left Tord with an odd feeling of comfort. "See? You like it. Now, who was the right one?"

    He felt horrible whenever someone gave him a gift because he never had anything to return with. Gifts confused him anyway, why would people base a friendship on materialistic things? Well, this one did make Tord feel slightly better, so he couldn't complain too much anyway. "Matt," his teeth bit down on his cheek, looking over the tiny container for a short period of time, "do you mind if I go to the bathroom?" He pulled at his hoodie strings as he tried to look as casual as usual. All the small things he never prepared for, this was one of them.

    "Ah, sure!" Said the smiling ginger, his freckled face smiling in distress, forcing himself to sit and ease himself in front of his vanity.

    Tord rushed, still holding the small container tight in hand. God, what was going on with his life? Why didn't Tord have much of an option anymore? He pulled the door shut as calmly as he could, leaning his back against the door as his racing heart pounded harder. He wished he was more social, he wished he was able to have a pleasant talk with his friends and not feel like he's dying after every word. He was growing sick of all the hiding and it began to take its toll on the teenage boy. He looked in the mirror and stared into his dull golden eyes. Those eyes got him in so much damn trouble if he'd say so himself. They made his friends feel bad for him, they were what made Patryck and Paul fall for him in the first place. He began to back away from the mirror until he hit the wall, sliding down the rich wallpaper to curl up and cry quietly against the clean tile. At this moment, he felt dead.

 

    Tord, to the depths of his lost soul, wished to know what it felt like to be alive.

 

    Between sobs, he almost missed it. He couldn't quite see what it was in the moment due to his forearms covering his face and hands locked in his hair. The sound was a silent whistle or maybe it was an alarm of some sort. Whatever it was, it pulled him out of his tiny ball and distracted him from a pounding headache. He slowly stood to his feet and scanned the bathroom. At first, he didn't see anything so Tord assumed it was nothing before seeing the slight reflection of the sun in his eye as he went to leave.

    It was one, slightly cracked mirror. He'd seen this exact mirror before, so he knew it wasn't Matt's. He lifted the mirror and nearly dropped it again after a paper that was poorly stuck on had fallen off. Matt wasn't a writer nor was he one to label his things. Tord crouched down to investigate, checking for any flags before picking up the paper and unfolding it. Unlike the expected, it was a note to himself in very... familiar handwriting. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

 

"Dear little red,  
    I'm sorry. Maybe this is the wrong time, but you should give this to Matt. It will make you feel better."

    He felt cold. He looked around frantically for any openings to the bathroom to try and understand what just happened. It didn't matter, Tord tore up the note, flushed it down the toilet and left. He stood at the door for a moment, once more looking around for flags.

    As he walked back he wiped his tears, avoiding putting his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't smudge the mirror screen. He was sure Matt was going to mention his tear stained face, so he already prepared an excuse. Matt was strangely calm when Tord returned, but Tord took it as Matt trying to be a good friend. He saw himself in the mirror's vanity as he approached and Matt saw him too. The ginger turned around, staring directly at his friend with wide eyes. Both were silent as Tord held out the mirror quietly and placed it into Matt's hands.

    "This," he paused in hopes this excuse would work, "was broken-"

    "Oh goodness, I love it!" The tree shot to his feet with a loud squeal, looking at himself up and down in the cracked reflection. "The crack even looks like an M! M for Matt! Just as perfect as me!" Matt's laughter warmed Tord's hard and relaxed his nerves, the happiness of the ginger just so happened to make the world a little sweeter. He found himself reapplying the chapstick, the raspberry tasted sour yet sweet. Reminding Tord of this moment with Matt where life didn't seem so bad. "Just because something is broken, doesn't mean everyone will hate it! Silly Tord!"

    The smile crept up Tord's cheek, as he joined and exchanged laughter with his bubbly freckled friend.

 

-◇-

 

    Patryck flicked through pages on his phone as his husband worked, uninterested in whatever the other brunette was doing at the moment. "You know, we should really go on a date. It's been months." Patryck stressed, looking away from the bright screen to stare into space.

    "Mhm."

    Patryck pushed off the wall he was leaning on, pulling off his uniform and slipping into a white shirt and sweatpants to just relax in for the moment. Flopping down onto his stiff shared bed, "I mean, it would be nice to see some sun."

    "Yeah, uh huh that's wonderful."

    Patryck picked his chin up and squinted in Paul's direction, "are you even listening?"

    "Oh yeah, I agree yep.."

    "Paul!"

    The bushy-eyebrowed man jumped in his skin with the chair falling back once losing balance. "Heck, sorry Pat! I wasn't ignoring you I just caught up." It only took one look that had Paul backing out of the room to give his lover some well-needed space. He took his 'work' with him though. This piece was put together all by the couple over the years and Paul always took time to go back and look over their memories. It was their family scrapbook. A lot of it contained Tord's small treasures as he grew up, medals, pictures of young Tord and used movie tickets. Paul's personal favorite part of the scrapbook was the beginning. This wasn't the first one, no, it was the second. That was the time period of Tord's second full year with his finding in Norway to his last years before secondary school. The first one was mostly just Paul and Patryck and though Paul loved that time very much it seemed so plain to when Tord came.

    He found a lone bench and sat down, crossing his legs to rest the book on as he flipped through the plastic pages of the large leather book. He looked over all the medals he was awarded those years and noticed most weren't anything new. Which wasn't all that surprising, he'd never been promoted in his life. He couldn't consider having Tord to be promoted, that was more of a privilege to have. He had mixed feelings on promotions, knowing that they could be what could tear him and Patryck apart some day.

    "Hey dad," a voice loomed above, "what are you doing up so late?" Tord sat down next to him, golden eyes drifting down to stare at the book as well. "Ugh, childhood was rough. I couldn't understand anyone."

    A chuckle rumbled from his father, Paul lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. "You were a very bright kid," he began, "you made me jealous about how well you could use a knife. As well as how much of your father's attention you stole." Paul looked at the boy and ruffled his strawberry blonde hair. Watching Tord grumble and swat away his father's hand in a desperate attempt to save the wild mess he called hair. Some just flat out referred to Tord's hair as horns, and nothing else.

    "Very funny." Tord looked back down at the book, flipping to some pages he knew all too well. "I was at Matt's today. He gave me chapstick." He pulled out the tube, letting Paul stare at the glossy red plastic too.

    "Raspberry?" Paul huffed, "Trash. Those vanilla cupcake ones are the greatest, your dad wears those a lot if you ever noticed." Which he didn't, Patryck must have hidden it very well. "He also used to wear glitter gloss, or whatever it's called. He's put his skin through so much to look so clean." Patryck did have one pretty face and Paul married that pretty face too. Paul didn't expect how much trouble it would actually get him into.

    Tord rolled his eyes and reapplied, leaning back on the bench with a sigh. His father's stories drifted to the back of his mind as he spaced out. The bliss of just being near someone who actually cared, who took care of him all his life. Tord wished there was something more he could do for his parents but he wasn't Leader. Everyone was changed by him, everything went through him. Well, Tord's date didn't. It would stay that way too.

    He realized he almost entirely forgot about his date.

 

-◇-

 

    Tom was drunk.

    Really, really drunk.

    "How long as he been out here for?" Edd's voice strained as he helped Tord and Matt heave the drunken man to the car. "He's clearly soaked, he's been in the rain for longer than half an hour. I'm afraid he's going to catch a cold." The green coated man showed worry on his face, being the one to fully fit Tom into the back seat. "Tord, you can sit in the front with me. Matt, make sure his head doesn't throw up."

    He knew most people would have called the police when this kind of accident happened. But Edd knew what danger that would pose for Tom even if he tried, and that Tord didn't quite understand. Was Tom hiding something too? Tord's family couldn't go to the hospital because they would be arrested on the spot for being enemies of war. What was Tom's reason?

    As Edd and Tord adjusted Tom from one side, Matt went around to his usual spot and held the blue friend up. Once the door was closed and Matt was comfortable, Tord and Edd took their places in the front seat. It was strange sitting where Tom usually did. There were bottles in the floorboards and bags full of his things that were usually left in Edd's car when he went home for the day. Everyone did that. Matt had mirrors stored in the pouch in front of his seat, Edd had a personal mini fridge full of cola that sat on the floorboard between Matt and Tord, and the devil himself usually had a gun or two stashed away. The boys didn't care, they were aware each one of them had standards for their space as long as Edd's property was respected.

    The seat felt like Tom, too. It was worn in and there was a clear dip in the seat that fit Tom's body perfectly. It was weird for Tord, and he felt himself adjusting to get used to it. It wasn't a long drive, and the four found themselves in front of Tom's house. Edd would have taken Tom to his own, but Edd knew his parents would freak because of Tom's drinking problem. Matt's mother was too guilty of ever seeing Tom, because of her that poor boy was suffering every day of his life. The woman couldn't live with herself so she spoiled her son in her distress.

    "So who is staying the night with him?" Tord had to be the one to pop the question, and it shocked him that Edd and Matt planned to just drop off the blue man and just go. Someone had to take care of his bird and someone had to take care of Tom when he woke up. As well as making sure he doesn't die in his sleep from choking or something.

    "Well... Tord... you could!" Edd chirped. It wasn't like Tord had much of a choice anyway. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his black trench coat and groaned, giving in any way.

    That's how Tord found himself in this situation, sitting alone in Tom's house as the drunk man slept. He found himself doing simple tasks for when Tom woke up, like making sure a water was ready and even feeding Rouge. He prepared a simple meal so Tom would have something when he woke up and cleaned up a little so it didn't stress Tom out to see a huge mess. As he was cleaning he noticed a few things about Tom that were either new or small things that were just classic about the younger one. He never knew Tom played the bass in his life, which at first Tord thought it was just a normal guitar. He also really picked up on the... Christmas cult, or something. Pictures of Christmas trees ripped up, burned, or a box full of ashes labeled "x-mas = LAME." Maybe it was just a burning hatred of Christmas. That would explain an awful lot about Tom.

    He didn't know what to do once he finished. Tord found himself helplessly roaming the house for something more to do, but in the end, he ended up seated right next to the blue man on the couch.

    "Fhuck-"

    Tord's whole body jumped as he shot his gaze in Tom's direction. It was clear Tom wasn't fully awake, just in a lost drunken daze. The horned one slowly moved to his feet and grabbed the water, sitting on the smaller spot exactly next to Tom and sighed.

    "Hush, Stupid. Drink." He kept his words simple so Tom could maybe try and understand. He held up the bottle after he opened it, not even flinching when Tom snatched it and did as asked. Actually, more likely Tom didn't understand a word Tord said, and just saw water and went for it.

    "He's a lying again to us..." Tom slurred, head bobbing down as he groaned in pain. "What happened ya know, why does'e hate us."

    Tord scrunched up his face in attempts to try and understand whatever Tom was trying to say, when he caught on he began to worry. "Who," he began, "Who is lying?"

    "Tord's... I don' get why."

    Before he spoke again Tord had to remember Tom was stupidly drunk. "How is Tord lying, Tom?" He questioned, waiting for a reply. He knew he had a timeframe to ask his questions before Tom either passed out or grew angry.

    "He is hidin' shit!" Tom stuck his finger out, eyes wide. "You're hidin shit... Tord?" It was silent again, and the drunk Tom laid back with a sigh. "Don' tell ya I care about ya.. prob gets to yer head or somethin.." Still, stupidly drunk. "Who knows.."

    Tord had rolled his eyes and stood up, taking the water back and setting it on the coffee table. "Who knows what?"

    "Who knows how Mr. green woul' feel if I had a crush forrrrr ol' lil red."

    Fuck.

 

-◇-

 

    He didn't remember falling asleep, at least he thought he didn't remember. So much yet so little happened last night that Tord was going crazy. He should have bailed in the night, so he wouldn't have woken up in Tom's house ready to face the magic. The worst part is that Tom remembered everything! He's Tom! Crazy predictable yet so stupidly surprising. The anxiety of confrontation was creeping up his neck slowly, he didn't understand why out of the blue this came up. Tord didn't know how he felt in return, did he even have the heart to love someone? He was so busted up and there were too many lies holding Tord to the ground that he just wanted to set himself on fire.

    The ground looked more relaxing than Tom's expression right now, and every sip from the bottle Tom took made Tord feel more and more stressed.

    "So this is awkward, huh?"

    No, totally not! Tord's mind twisted with sarcasm. "Listen, Tom I'm flattered you like me but I-" He froze, he didn't.. understand how to love someone or what it meant to love someone. "I don't think it's possible for me to even love. I've had such a rough childhood you wouldn't even begin to understand,-" He stopped talking when Tom groaned in annoyance and put the Smirnoff bottle down. He got up, walked over to Tord and picked up a decently sized box and placed it in Tord's lap. Both were quiet, Tom hovering over Tord with his arms crossed and brow raised.

    "Well?" Tom motioned at the poorly taped box, "are you going to open it?" He couldn't refuse such a gift of any sort since what happened with Matt. When Tord opened the box, he was taken back by what he saw. "I made it, don't ruin it please." At this point, it didn't matter what Tom said about the gift. It was.. everything. Tord loved it, a grin grew on his face as he removed the cloth object and held it up with a smile.

    It was a blue coat, with red accents and a fur hood. Tord saying he loved it couldn't express how excited he was to even lay eyes on this. "Alright Witness, what's the catch? I want it." Tord was really keeping it no matter what, but he'd humor Tom.

    "One date. One. Doesn't matter where." Tom put his hands on his hips, impatient to hear the strawberry blonde's reply.

    Tord looked at the jacket, then back at Tom and shrugged, "alright."

 

-◇-

 

    The first date went a lot better than both expected. Tord didn't dress up to fancy either, but he didn't wear his black coat and opted just for the red hoodie because Tom liked it. Tom basicly wore his casual blue hoodie and smug expression. Both would take comfort over fancy any day.

    Through the night, Tom noticed Tord wasn't much for movie dates because movies were really never Tord's thing, but it was an easy first start. Maybe next time he'd pick going to the park or somewhere more alone so they could talk. The movie they watched was about a girl who married a man, and he left her to become famous. He met a fancy woman and had an affair with her, and when the woman was heartbroken that she tried to speak up and ended up getting killed. Talk about extreme drama, right? But Tord couldn't help but to feel like he understood. 

    "Well, that movie was.. okay." Tord didn't really know how he exactly felt. Tom's reaction was near priceless, "what's so funny?" Tord spoke in defence, he didn't quite understand why Tom could be laughing.

    "You don't have to pretend to like something just for me," the other laughed and ruffled Tord's hair. Wasn't the whole point of dating to be happy with everything and love everything you do together? 

    "I don't understand." 

    Tom slid himself infront of the norwegian boy and took his hands into his own. "If you don't like something you should tell me. We don't have to just bond over what we like, but over what he don't like. Sometimes even if it's about each other." Tom cupped Tord's hands and sighed, looking up at the streetlights that blocked out the stars. Eventually, he looked back at Tord.

    "You didn't like the movie either?"

    "No," Tom smiled, "it was really lame."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh how cute, hope it ends swell


	11. Let's Kiss Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love him more than you ever will.

         He really hadn't expected Tom and his relationship to spread around so quickly. Edd seemed confused yet forcefully happy for them, and Matt cheered himself on for confirming how gay Tord actually was. Matt was just excited to be right for once and none of the group could honestly blame him. Tord was more worried about how things were changing in the group once they started dating on a regular basis. First off, whenever the couple asked for alone time, the other two respected that and gave space. That sounds normal in any group of friends, but it felt so strange to just go out in a group and then randomly split up. It made Tord uncomfortable. Another change was the car, Tom moved to the backseat with Tord and all his things moved too. It gave Matt and Edd more time to talk up front, but Tord saw it as the group wasn't as stable as they used to be before their relationship began. Everyone seemed to be splitting up and it hurt, Tord wanted both.

         Not to be mistaken for him not loving his time with his boyfriend, he started to 'understand' how to share mutual feelings in a relationship. Paul and Patryck were great on advice for that and seemed excited on helping their son with something that Leader had no say in. Well, something Leader didn't even know of yet. Tord heard all kinds of stories from his fathers that helped him understand his own relationship. But both of his fathers lacked the guts to tell him that all first relationships usually go south. They just wanted Tord happy.

         Clearly, that was a mistake.

         His school was hosting a dance tonight. The final dance of the year and everyone in his class was rushing around to find dates for such a special event. Tord wasn't in a rush, and in all honesty, Tord had no interest in going. Public gatherings weren't much of his story anyway. Ever hear of the girl who had blood dumped on her at a school dance? Gross. It wasn't even proper blood either. At this point, Tord knew damn well what blood looked like. It came from those cuts, at first it's a soft cherry, and as it grows, it gains depth and drains one even if it isn't theirs. Tord knew the feeling of blood all too well, and he couldn't complain about it. Tord often found himself digging into his own skin to watch himself bleed. Those girls really needed to learn how to collect blood properly. 

         Tord rather carve out his own heart than be seen breathing in the same air as.. those kids. Those kids who had no worries and bullied him and his friends for their own enjoyment. It disgusted him greatly, some days he breaks out into fits at these people if he was caught alone with them. Or he'd spend hours cuddled in a ball with Tom and rambling about the popular kid issues, letting a gentle hand comb through his hair in attempts to calm him.

         Speaking of his boyfriend, where the hell was Tom at? He already blew up Tom's phone trying to contact him- Tord thought he was important. If he was, Tom wouldn't have ignored him, right? At the fifteenth attempt, Edd grabbed Tord's wrist and snatched the phone right from his hands. Tord was completely silent, staring at the spot where his phone formerly was. What was he thinking? This isn't what he should be doing. He jerked his wrist away pushing it back into his coat's pockets(He hasn't quite worn the blue one yet, some little birdie told him to just hold onto it for now). Edd really wasn't going to deal with Tord's fit today so he took Tord's reason from him.

         He said it a million times but this time Tord realized Edd was really hurt, "we get it! You love your boyfriend, that's just swell. Can't you focus on your friends?" Was Edd angry with him? "You have only been on your phone, Tord." He couldn't quite tell what this emotion is, it was anger but laced with care. Tord stuck his nose up and looked away, annoyed his own "friend" would treat him in such a manner. Edd pocketed Tord's phone for the time being and glanced off.

         Matt sat on the other side of Edd, slowly sipping at his smoothie before raising a finger and speaking up, "so is anyone going to the dance tonight? I've had several ask me already." Matt exclaimed with pride, holding his chin high to prove his point. He was always quite the ladies man, wasn't he? The ginger made finger guns at Tord, trying to lighten the mood. "Are you and Tom going? I know Edd isn't."

         "Oh please." Edd groaned, pulling his hood over his head and laying back onto the grass. Something was seriously wrong with Edd, wasn't there.

         Tord just ignored him with his attention back at his ginger friend. "I'm not going." He slouched back onto the grass, feeling the dry grass scratch and itch at his palms. "I don't like social gatherings. If Tom isn't going, I don't have any reason." Once he finished speaking, two blue arms wrapped around his waist and lifted him off the ground. Edd peaking out of his coat and Matt falling into laughter.

         "What he means to say is," Tom's voice spoke out just to catch his friend's attention, "he's going but doesn't have the right outfit."

         Tord lost all annoyances on his mind labeled with Tom's name and laughed as the Brit's fingers tickled at him, "Tom!" He cried, and when he was released he hugged the blue man tightly. Both exchanging a warm laugh as Edd grumbled more. "I can't go, I don't have a ticket-" The two paper passes that Tom held up shushed him and made him glare slightly. Tom had to think of everything, didn't he? God, he hated Tom in a good way. Like when you see someone who is really good at art and the first emotion in mind is to say you hate it sarcastically, so both of you can exchange in a fun moment? That was him right at this moment. 

         "What?" The blue one bubbled with laughter, "you're not going to leave me behind at a dance all alone, right?"

         He sneered at that, "Matt will be there." Taking one pass into his hands and feeling the poorly printed paper. He wished their school put decent money into things for once.

         Tom glanced at Matt and made a rather long 'eh' sound. He wasn't going to say it out loud, and he didn't need to for Tord to understand. Morally, it was wrong to hang around the man who killed your father. Tord could understand, right? Even if that's never happened to him yet. He sighed and nodded, hands slowly slipping back into his pockets. He thought the dance would be something Tom wouldn't consider, maybe Tord could use his orders as an excuse. He did have a ton on his list and he could just say his dad's had a ton of chores for him. That would work, right? Or maybe he can use Edd's apparent sour behavior. Seriously, what was wrong with him lately? Edd wasn't acting like himself at all.

         This takes him to now, sitting in the bathroom of his parent's room with the couple arguing behind him. Patryck kept suggesting to clean up Tord's hair a tad and that a little makeup wouldn't hurt, Paul, on the other hand, kept shutting down Patryck's argument with how Tord just looked fine without dolling himself up. Tord knew it was just the maternal part of Patryck where he just wanted to care for his son and try to give Tord the best night possible. If he was going to go out without Leader knowing, Patryck figured he should live it the most he could. It would be one of the first times Tord left the house without being watched every few minutes or even seconds. Tonight was his if he wanted it or not.

         Eventually, Paul and Patryck let Tord decide on his own looks, watching as all the boy did was clean up with a bit of water, followed by a little chapstick and carried on. Tord didn't need to dress to impress, he just needed to feel comfortable. 

         "What are you planning to wear?" Patryck piped up with a smile, "I know we can't get anything, but your father and I have clothes! You might fit Paul's better than mine." Tord watched as the soldier ran through his and Paul's closet, the smaller one rolling his eyes with a snort. 

         Tord looked over at Paul who was looking back at the picture books with a dishearted frown. Clearly, something was going on, but Tord was too consumed in his own problems to ask if his parents were okay. They were their own entity and Tord had no use intervening into that. Actually, Tord preferred to stay as far as possible when the couple argued. He assured himself that space was all the couple needed, and they would stay a healthy couple if he kept his space, right?

         He wasn't ready for this dance, but he didn't want to make Tom and Matt upset so he beat himself up about it. His friends were important to him, he needed them. Who knew how Tord would feel if one vanished? Livid, that's for sure. He didn't even care for whatever outfit was suggested to him, he just nodded in different ways and indirectly let Patryck and Paul play dress up. Eventually, he found himself in a maroon button up, a cherry red tie and black dress pants. It was warm, so a coat was mostly unneeded, but he grabbed his fur coat just in case he needed it. He never knew how uncomfortable he felt in dressy clothes, he preferred his hoodie and trench coat any day. He didn't even care it made him look dreadful at school. That was all over now, and this dance would finish off his school years. Tord also realized this meant Leader had more time to hurt him and his whole body covered in goosebumps.

         "Tord?" Patryck glanced at his husband and then back at his son, "is everything okay?" Patryck was lucky he moved his hand in time or it would have been smacked off. Paul was going to scold him for it, but the smile on Patryck's face made him quiet. "Let's get going, I'm sure your friends are waiting." Yeah all of them except Edd. The hand returned and pulled him along the grey halls and out to the parking lot. All the strings Patryck had to pull to get this to happen could get him killed, but it was all worth it if Tord was happy.

         They weren't even going to be taking the same car and that scared him. Because that meant lending someone else's and risk lying to them or that person slipping word out about this night. But, that said person had been 'friends' with Tord since childhood. Otherwise known as the troublemaker. Tord never wanted to get into what all the young soldier had done, he was just happy he sometimes had someone to talk to. That was Adam. 

         "Oi!" He called, "Mr. Patryck, Mr. Paul! Grand to see you!" The blonde hopped off the hood of his car and shoved his phone deep into his pocket. "Where is- ah! Tord!" The Norwegian boy stepped back as he was hugged tightly by his old playmate and didn't even protest when Paul pried the man off. 

         It's been a running joke in the family how much Paul disliked this kid for what seemed to be no apparent reason. Now was no exception according to Paul, "if this wasn't for Tord," he began, "I'd break your neck." He pulled out a cigarette and fiddled with the lighter until the amber glow filled the pristine finish of the paper. He crossed one of his arms, Paul's unamused look not effecting Adam in the slightest. Patryck didn't bother to step between them and only lead Tord into the back seat and waited for his son to get comfortable before he sat down himself. 

         Adam seemed to mock Paul, sticking out his rear, bending an arm to grip his own hip, and his palm at his chin "Aw Mr. Paul," he teased with a smug grin plastered on his cheeks, "I thought I was just an innocent angel." Then Patryck shut the door as Paul blew smoke in Adam's face. Tord shouldn't bother, that was Paul's business, not his. Tord needed to learn his place but inside he just couldn't. He began to bite his tongue and dug his fingers into his own arms- ah, was he hugging himself? How silly, he thought to himself, he should act stronger than this little child that whined in him. 

         Patryck didn't seem too surprised and only stared out the window completely unamused. Was Paul like this when the couple was alone? Tord couldn't be entirely sure what was happening and felt like he was forced to sit in the sidelines and watch Patryck and Paul work out their own issues. Though words may be never spoken, doesn't mean the eternal argument isn't happening. Tord knew better to than assume it was all okay. He relaxed his arms and let his father's company distract him. His arms relaxed and began to fiddle around with his coat zipper in attempts to find entertainment as Paul and Adam argued. He didn't mean to find another note, and hell no, he wasn't reading that! He was already terrified that it appeared again, he knew he felt watched! No matter how careful Paul and Patryck were at keeping this in the down low, Tord's stalker seemed to know where he was at no matter what. He sneered at the "Dear Little Red" written in a fancy font that rested on top of the note, stuffing it into his pocket in annoyance. There was no possible way the stalker was Adam, the soldier was deployed when Tord was at Matt's house, so he already crossed that off his list.

         He was so lost in thought again, the shaking start of the car's engine was enough to scare him, the boy becoming slightly irritated at the little things. What was it that was lurking in his heart? Why was there this gloom that pulled him underwater? He felt like he was drowning as he slouched deep into his seat. He should be grateful and happy for all the lengths everyone was going for him and his happiness but it felt so impossible to be happy in this day of age. He wanted to reach paradise. 

         You'll never get there, a voice mocked, you shouldn't even bother trying to be happy.

         He shook his head quickly and looked around the car, no one said anything, no one was acting abnormally. Maybe he was just hearing things. Tord shifted in his seat until he was leaning against the door, staring out into a sea of pretty colors. He didn't even notice himself reapplying his chapstick again. He just let the soft sour sent and the painted sky ease him back to his paradise. The sunset was always pretty, no matter who said otherwise, it was a simple sight to behold that only lasted for a short time period. The sky was that jewel where if you didn't have enough time in your day to look at it, you had too much on your plate. 

         Paul was quiet for most of the ride, being respectful to the driver and letting Patryck tell fun stories to Adam and receive stories to listen to. Tord gazed around the car to try and give himself a lifelike appearance as if he was listening to their talk when he secretly wasn't. He picked up on Patryck sharing stories about a dog he used to own, and how it would steal stuff from the house and make his own small shelter with it. Tord found no real meaning to the story because there really wasn't. Man, this was rough. As happy as they sounded talking, Tord couldn't help but feel something strange radiate off Adam. 

 

-◇-

 

         He arrived at the dance mostly in one piece, and his date pretty much nowhere in sight. Did Tom prank him-

         "Hey, Tord." 

         -oh. He turned his head to meet his own with soft brown eyes. He didn't think Edd was actually coming, and to think he'd been harsh all this time over Edd being a crybaby. "Hello, friend." Was all he could manage as the mocking voice drifted back to him again. Are you really that pathetic, it hissed, Edd deserves a much better friend than you.

         Edd sighed, calm as he rubbed his palms together. "It's nice to r- see you." Was he feeling okay lately? This was something Tord disliked about his friend that he always encouraged friends to talk about their problems but let his own pileup and then acted hostile about it. Tord was slowly beginning to question if Edd really used his friend's venting to cope with his own problems. Not to say Edd didn't aim to help his friends, but the side bonus was that it helped him feel better. "Tom-" Edd spaced out for a second before looking back down at Tord, "...said you'd be here and that if I should say sorry." Was everyone reading his mind today? He didn't mean to come off as so bitter, but come on.

         "It doesn't matter. Where is Tom?" He didn't expect that to slip out of his mouth. He didn't mean to dismiss Edd so quickly but it felt so good to speak up. It felt good to feel like a living person for once. Then as suddenly as the good feeling arrived, so did guilt.

         He gave you friends, the devil growled you fucking mistake. You hurt his feelings, Tord. You hurt him, Tord. You fucked up, Tord. 

         He cringed as Edd looked away and tried to collect his words, it was clear this wasn't what he was expecting. "Tom is in the bathroom inside. He'll be out here soon." What had he done? He should have never said that to someone he considered such a close friend. If Tord cared in the slightest, he would have had the respect to give his friend, right? Right. Edd seemed to wait for more, but when Tord didn't give, he left. He left Tord alone, by himself. To crumble to the bug crawling in his skin. Something was going terribly wrong tonight.

         He needed to breathe he figured and took a place next to a dogwood tree next to the entrance of the school. The soft warm breeze on his skin telling him that demons would cower to the wind and everything felt better that way. Even when his name was called again, the wind swooped it up and carried it away. It carried a blue figure to embrace Tord in a warm hug.

         "I was looking for you, asshole!" Tom teased, squeezing the life out of Tord before letting the strawberry blonde go. "Did Edd come out here? Or did he not find you."

         The small red one noticed how much he'd rather ignore that topic than to talk about it right now, "I guess he missed me, shall we go inside?" 

         "You betcha. I heard someone put alcohol in the punch. I want some of that before the night ends." 

         Tord could only wonder who that someone was as he got his wristband and walked inside. He wasn't even past the front hallway yet and he could hear the thumping beat of the music, he listened to Tom slowly sing along and for the moment the world slowed down. He felt peaceful as people rushed around him. This wasn't as bad as Tord thought it was going to be. As he entered the large crowded room filled with hundreds of sweaty teenagers, Tord was unable to hear his phone ringing over all the sound. He couldn't think and it made him feel at ease with his boyfriend, even if they could hardly hear each other. 

         Tord never really danced before, so he just followed whatever Tom was doing until he realized he couldn't follow his blue boyfriend anymore. He had almost forgotten one thing about Tom that everyone knew. Tom was one of those you would call the "life of a party." When he went to a party, he's bound to entertain. Tord watched in amazement as the movements happened faster than he could register. Tom was so... fluid. Hips that rolled on time to the beat, feet that kicked on note changes, it was like Tom was born to dance. The circle surrounding Tord and his boyfriend were surprising, he couldn't see anything outside the sea of screaming children. As the song came to a close, Tord stepped back as Tom managed to lift himself and turn his body, landing his feet side by side, left hip facing Tord, chin tilted back with a grin and his left hand extended out to Tord as the other stayed at ease at his side. Was... was he indirectly flirting? Infront of a sea of children? What was he thinking!

         The DJ seemed to get the memo, or at least someone asked him too, and the slow dance music began. 

               "Tom, you could have just asked and not been so extra." 

         The blue one rolled his eyes, the light his silky blue tie and wind-whipped hair making Tom look so beautiful. "Well," his voice rolled as the red and blue hands locked together, "I wouldn't be a good boyfriend if I didn't give you the extra attention." 

                 It all Everything began to feel like a dream after that, like one of those scenes one would see from a princess movie. Both of them still held onto each others hands, bodies coming close as they began to swing together along with the melody. Tord jumping slightly to the warm of a hand at his hip, as almost in instinct his own placed itself on Tom's shoulder. The circle 'ooed' and 'awwed' at the couple, but to some, they knew something was off. Something about this wasn't quite right.

         Tord realized how nice Tom looked tonight. Was he wearing makeup? Tord felt slightly bad for not putting in more effort to make himself look as presentable. Tom wore a dark blue suit with that silky sky blue tie and he dressed up all fancy just for this dance with Tord. The Norwegian boy would be lying if he said he wasn't flattered someone would go to these sorts of lengths just to please him. The moment felt so perfect between the couple as the two came closer, noses touching and eyes slowly closing. Two lips that met each other as the clock struck midnight.

 

-◇-

 

         "So, how'd it go?"

         The night wasn't even over yet and someone was already asking him that question. "Pretty sure he knows I wear raspberry chapstick, Matt." Tord sipped his punch as he leaned back into a chair. "He knows I'm lame now."

         The ginger rolled his eyes and went back to staring at his reflection in the punch bowl. "Oh please," he began waving a hand in dismissal, "we all know as long as it isn't Christmas flavored you're fine." He'd hate to say he agreed with Matt on that one. If anything was known about Tom it was his extreme hatred of Christmas. 

         It was right that the original punch was spiked, and it was also true that after their dance that Tom drank pretty much all of it and not regretting a single bit of it. As far as Tord knew, Tom was still running around being an idiot. Did he really let time sleep by so fast? He didn't have a proper watch, so that he could- ah, right. Matt the rich kid, he had basically everything. "Matt, what time is-?"

         "It's been an hour since Tom was here. No need to do the math, I figured you'd ask." 

         It's been a full hour and Tord barely noticed Tom anywhere. He knew he'd at least see the pretty blue tie shining somewhere, right? "I'll be back." He mumbled, thanking Matt for the information as he roamed the room until his eyes finally landed on the reason.

         His heart sank, and to him, everything became slow and quiet. The slow thumps of the beat as teenagers danced unknowingly. He was here, holding that pretty blue tie in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kissy kissy


	12. Jumping too Early

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Little Red,   
> I'm not sorry.

    Tord felt those grey eyes push his stomach down deep into his soul, pushing up all the bile and fear Tord has been holding in this entire night. Tord has almost entirely forgotten, his phone had been ringing at one point in the night and he ignored it. He ignored a call from Leader of all people and felt it was hard to breathe. How? How could any of this happen? Leader seemed to be ignored by everyone else, carrying on as if the grey leader was nothing to them. Tord began to rush with emotions, all of these different parties were attacking him all at once and it felt like too much was happening to him. His walk became brisk as he made his way to Leader, pushing between teenagers and adults alike.

    Tord hissed under his breath, crossing his arms and pulled his posture back to stay as far from this man as possible. "Where is he." It took so much out of Tord to not rip the man's throat out and drag it across the pretty tile floor-

    "Oh who?" Leader grinned like the diablo himself, eyeing the silk tie in his hand. "Your little boyfriend?"

    Someone needed to put Leader in his place, the voice from before screamed at him, how sad little Tord will sit idle as his world falls apart. Pathetic. This was how it's always been since the norski had been a little boy, and it will never change. Don't we all wish we had more of a say instead of someone holding us by a collar and telling us what to do? Leader was that person for Tord, and quite frankly the strawberry blonde was not fond of the relationship either. He felt like a domestic beast ready to explode at any moment. Because of this, not only himself but Tom was dragged into Leader's disgusting grasp and was suffering too. Tord was going mad with emotion as irritation became the only reasonable escape. 

    "Where is he." Tord repeated, the edge on his voice not phasing Leader a single bit. Oh he should have been scared, he should be afraid of all the blood chilling torture Tord wanted to put him through. All the revenge, the fight in Tord that began to exist, fighting the one who robbed him of the happiness of having a childhood. He wanted all of it to be redeemed with a slice and blood-soaked rip at his guts-

    The other wasn't amused as if he was expecting more. "He's just relaxing with some of our friends in a back room, no trouble." The grey man turned on his heel to walk away, "would be such a shame if he didn't make it see tomorrow." 

    Tord followed like the pup he was, but spite in his beastly step. He had to contain himself, if he didn't he knew his fit would get Tom killed- if Tom wasn't dead already. He feared what could be going through Tom's mind right now as those soldiers held him. Was one of those soldiers the one who exposed his secret?

    He should be free. "Leader please," he pleaded, "Tom isn't a prisoner of war. He's a boy." Tord had to try.

    White gloves gripped onto two metallic handles of the back exit, "oh?" He began on a cruel note, "a boy who is getting in the way of your training." He pushed the doors open to reveal what was truly a nightmare. Tord was ready to throw up at the scene.

    Soldiers surrounded the room, scatted into different places to make sure their prisoner wouldn't escape. That didn't seem likely either because Tom was clearly on the verge of blacking out. The pretty blue tux he had been wearing had been torn in some sort of struggle. At least Tom had the will to fight for his life, even if he failed. Tord felt himself being torn apart on the inside seeing someone he cared for in such a horrific state and that his own family had done this. Paul and Patryck were there, stripped of weapons and forced to stay still by gunpoint. This wasn't a family, this was a sick game that Leader liked to play. Hell, the one holding a gun to Paul's head was Adam.

    "I have a proposal, Tord." 

    His words were drowning out when voided eyes met with his own dull eyes. A sickly gentle hands taking Tord's with care and placing the dark metal object into his, driving Tord to emotional madness on this side of paradise. 

    "Kill him, and your parents live."

    Paul and Patryck were stiff, not even allowed to hold each other in what could possibly be their last moments if Tord didn't shoot. Patryck was visibly trying not to break down into a panic attack as Paul seemed more distressed about Patryck's wellbeing by looking over at him every few seconds. Their last I love you would be the staple of how their son doomed their family. 

    "If you don't kill him, all three of them dies." 

    Either way, Tom was to die. Tom didn't get a choice, his bird would die and his mother would be left alone. Edd and Matt would loose their best friend that Tord knew wasn't him. Both exchanged a look and once Tom seemed to grasp a full image of what was going on he was beyond pissed at what he saw. He understood now, and couldn't believe that his own boyfriend was part of a rogue army. What was he to do in this situation? He couldn't prepare for his own death that he kissed the raspberry lips of.

    "Go on, shoot-"

    Creeek...

    "HEY LOOK OUT-!"

    A voice was familiar shouting from above but Tord couldn't quite put his finger on it, it looked.. like Matt! The brightly ginger had been on the roof and had pushed on a sandbag that was resting above and now it came rocketing down, landing directly on Leader and knocking him down. Giving just enough distraction time for Tord to dash and free a struggling, partially aware Tom. "Don't touch me," he'd hiss, "fuck off." The red bird could feel his heart shattering into pieces in a never ending nightmare.

 

-◇-

 

    Apparently, Matt had seen anything and it was all a happy accident that he was running for his and Tom's life right now. Deep into the depths of the school building and Tord knew they were safe. No matter how evil of a man Leader was he wouldn't attack this many innocent bodys and start a useless war. Tord and many others could reason with that for a million reasons. Tord pulled himself into a random classroom with the beat up Tom, sighing softly and running a hand through matted hair in distress. This wasn't what he was planning or intending to happen, none of it. He hates you know, the demon hissed. He'll understand I hope, the boy cried back.

    "What the hell was that?" Tom didn't understand as Tord hoped and maybe he should have expected that from a man who almost died because of him. Both could see out into the dance still, teenagers dancing unknowingly to what was going on in the upper room. The crowds clumping and dancing together or splitting up to relax. A song with such a familiar tune began to play. "What kind of sick game is this?" Gosh, what song was this and why did it feel so close to heart.

    Bye-Bye, Baby Blue... his eyes turned to stare at Tom who was inflamed with anger.

    I wish you could see the wicked truth... he looked down at the gun in his hands and he felt the weight burry him alive.

    Caught up in a rush it's killing you... he knew the past would catch up to him eventually, how did he even figure he'd last this long anyway?

    Screaming at the sun, you blow into... he built this life and he was blaming it for all his problems when he could have done more about all of this.

    Curled up in a grip when we were us... they were both so happy even despite all the lies, why did that have to change? Why did he have to suffer and live in pain like this? Everyone was happier in the past, right?

    Fingers in a fist like you might run... Tord noticed how angry Tom looked when he was shouting and cursing up a storm. He sounded so angry and yet he looked so scared as if his fight was actually supposed to be a flight.

    I settle for a ghost I never knew... each word split into his skin as fast as Tom said it, he couldn't believe he had put his trust in someone he hardly knew.

    Super-paradise I held on to... he just wanted to be with his friends so that colorful paradise would return, he wanted that so much why couldn't Tom understand?

    But I settle for a ghost... "-god. I hate you!" 

    It was quiet. Dead quiet. There wasn't a chance left to say anything more, and both men stood on uneven grounds. "Is your name even Tord?" I don't know? "Were those parents just fake?" I don't know. "Was this your plan? To befriend us and kill us?" I DON'T KNOW YOU MISTAKE WHAT DO YOU THINK. I don't know! His head was dizzy and everything felt overly sharp to look at. He would be happier if we were dead. "Just leave, Tord. Don't ever come back, go to your sick army friends and tell them how much of a sick and twisted person you are." YEAH YEAH PLAY THE BIG DOG, WON'T YOU? DISGUSTING, YOU COMPLETE FILTH. CAN'T YOU SEE I'M TRYING? Tom was holding in tears, holding the cuts in his arms made from the soldiers and the run with Tord or maybe even from self infliction. He wanted to have a nice night with his now ex-boyfriend. Someone he was willing to put effort and give his time to was a complete stranger to him, only if Tom knew.

    Tom left.

    Tord was alone to his demons, he knows you're a fake. 

    Tord had to smile through their voices and left the room to aimlessly wander the never ending halls. This was what he asked for, wasn't it? This is what he deserved, wasn't it? Just this endless torture of him and everyone that was ever close to him. There was no happiness in Tord's mind, happiness would only forth bring bitterness and misery in her path. She was just as horrid as Leader himself. Maybe it was time to read that note before he was hunted down by the army and killed or something. He rested on the stair steps to the roof and pulled the crumpled paper from his pocket to begin pulling at it until text once again appeared in the same handwriting as the last.

"Dear little red,  
    I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

    He felt nothing,  That's because you are absolutely nothing. He didn't understand the context of the apology, did this person know? Who even were they and were they saying sorry because they could have prevented this? Tord screamed in anger and threw the re-crumpled paper and made his way back onto the roof. No one was ever sorry for you, they only hurt you. That's right, they only hurt him! He had no time or reason to listen to those sick bastards. He walked towards the railing and hopped up on the rail to balance his weight on it before landing on the small lip on the other side and looking out at the emptying parking lot. Had he been alone to his mind this long? He could see Tom walking away with Edd and Matt at his shoulders questioning everything. Their worried eyes and mouths moving fast while Tord wished he were there too. He could see... him.

    "Are you serious? For some stupid reason you think crying up on the rooftop all alone will change their minds? At least you haven't been controlled to the bone!" a boy with strawberry blonde hair cried, and Tord found himself gripping the metal railing a bit tighter now as he leaned forward and looked down.

    "Oh goodness me, look at you," called a boy in a red tie, "you get everything a teenage boy would ever want and you cry cry cry, at least you're not being groomed!" Tord let out a deep breath as he looked back up again and closed his eyes to fall into a vivid daydream of nothing.

    Another scoffed at him with silver eyes, "You're just being dramatic, and need to suck it up like a real man. At least you weren't mentally abused since you were a toddler!" The now silver-eyed boy sighed, whispering his goodbyes, red tie loose and strawberry blonde hair a disaster. I deserve better than this, the voice spoke once more, free us. They asked, and Tord delivered. Gently his grip released from the railing and he fell several stories to the concrete below. The screams and gasps of horror were heard from the exiting crowd of this school.

    The news of Tord Red's suicide was up on the news later that day as his three friends and family struggled to cope with or understand what caused this. Leader was angry that it all turned to this in the end, his perfect pet drowned in his own depression and died.

    For the weeks following none of his friends were the same. Calling saints to each other and trying to cope. Their own best friend died in front of them and it hurt their hearts, rifts between their relationships and even Tord's own family struggled to cope. In the background those who suffered to the hands of the grey soldiers raised their heads and saw what the others could not. To them, Tord would not be missed, he'd rot in hell with the rest of his kind.

 

-◇-

 

    "I didn't want to see this." The tattered man hid his eyes from the scene in front of him. Why was this such a cold time, why did he have to watch this and have no choice to stop it? "Little Red deserved so much more for his potential. I wish Tom knew better."

    The one-eyed man nodded, "I agree, sir." 

    Both figures watched from afar, looking over the distress and pain of the crowd of teenagers and partial army soldiers that were blended in. Before he could see more, the note writer and his little pet left.

    For he wasn't worried- for this was only the beginning of Tord's story, he there would be much more to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sure hes fine... um...


	13. SAINTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -◇-

He jumped, and the world bowed their heads.

His friends called each struggle to cope,

his family mourned and mourned,

but something isn't right.

 

SAINTS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally just a chapter to tell you heyheyhey Saints ?? the mid story spin off of This Side of Paradise??? is finally out
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975779/chapters/37265504 is the link but if you dont wanna use that you can find it in the series tagged with This Side of Paradise called "This is Paradise" or on my profile !


	14. N0R5K1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to Paradise, Reader.

         He was falling, endlessly.

         Tord had been like this for years since he jumped and it hurt more to know he failed than the feeling of falling into an endless pit. What feels worse is to know he is bound to wake up. What, do you think he won't? Like had a choice. God, this was torture. He didn't want to live anymore, he just wanted to die, and escape this ugly side of paradise. Maybe he was dead and this was what death felt like, repeating the second before you died seamlessly for the rest of your life. It really wasn't that helpful or productive, was it? 

        To his luck, he finally hit the ground. He felt the pain spring through his nerves but it didn't seem to break anything. A dream it was, yes just a dream. A voice spoke to him from afar, Tord unable to see much further through the fog. The voice called to him, a shadow barely appearing, smoke pouring out it's mouth. Tord sat up, and as the figure came closer he began to use his arms to scoot himself away. His legs hurt to much to run, but the figure faster. Now desperate, Tord turned onto his knees and tried to stand, stumbling down to a crawl through the damp mud. It's time, the voices chanted, it's time to wake up. Hands grabbed his ankles, holding him as sickly green arms pushed through the dirt and clinged to his red hoodie, pulling at the fabric until it tore or held him still. Tord was trashing at this point, swatting and screaming. Blood from their arms now staining his skin with ugly colors.

         "Let me go!" He'd shout, "I don't want to go back!" He truly didn't.

         The arms began to pull at his hair and scratch at his throat, tears streaming from golden eyes. Now biting and pushing away as the voices chanted on, hail our Leader and his great name. He watched as his arms and legs began to vanish into the mud, feeling numb as the monster from afar mocked him. Poor poor Little Red, it'd say, it'll be okay. 

        They need you to lead, Red Leader.

         This was the first time in years that willingly, air filled his lungs, gasps of breaths felt ice cold and sharp as air rushed down his throat. He began to cough up mucus that rushed down too, holding his throat with a tight grip in pure fear. How long had Tord been in a coma for? Where were his friends and were they okay? So many questions were racing through his mind as he fought to grasp his concept of reality. He didn't die, he still had a purpose here and he didn't know if he wanted it yet. If anyone had any advice on fate, it would be Paul and Patryck. 

        First off, Tord wanted these plastic tubes off of him and the needles stabbed into his arms as far as way as possible. He yanked away the air supply and pulled out the IV in his arm. It was slowly becoming harder and harder to see, was this his fault? He wasn't supposed to pull out the iv as soon as he did. It didn't matter, a second of pain meant nothing to the emotional torture he suffered each and every day of his disgusting fucking life. He regained vision and balanced himself, stumbling back into the cold bar to stabilize his body. He was standing how, looking around the room to grain any clue to where he was. He was here. He was 'home' again. This isn't our home, the demons called as they crawled back-

        Shut up. I don't need your useless comments.

         Their screams stopped, and Tord smiled at his defense. He paced the room several times, scavenged at drawers and other things for any food he could find- god he was starving, he felt like he hadn't eaten in ages. He found nothing other than medical supplies and groaned in a fit of anger. At least he found his records, telling him how long he was out and other such things. Multiple broken ribs, other said bones, fractured skull, both lungs had collapsed... the list goes on. Reading this over and over, Tord knew he should of been dead. None of this helped, so the strawberry blonde figured at this point it was time to leave the room and find his actual clothes. He was currently barefoot in a rather comfortable hospital gown yet he'd kill for his hoodie and some decent shoes, you know? He gripped the cold handle and swung the door open, nurses and doctors looking over in pure shock at the sight at the dead man walking. One tried to approach him, but stepped back grom the animalistic growl that came from Tord's throat, watching the strawberry blonde as he gripped a scalpel from the room like his only defence. 

         He quickly got over their staring, caring less about whatever they were whispering between each other, hell he didn't even care that one called Leader to inform him that Tord was awake. He walked around for a moment to find the exit, realizing he never came here too much so everything was unknown to him. He found the doors and straight up walked on out and down the infirmary hall, fiddling with the medical band on his wrist in annoyance. His own name being displayed so carelessly seemed to bother him, it shouldn't be spoken or seen by anyone not close to him. Pictures on the walls caught his eye, the former leaders of this army or any high ranked official. None of them mattered to Tord, of course. They were just another slave to Leader's faulty design, and Tord was the first step to activation of anything Leader needed. 

         He made his way out of the hall and pushed open the swinging doors, blinding light hitting his eyes and gasps of soldiers and staff alike catching his attention.

        "Tord!" The voice of Patryck shouted with glee, the weight of his father picking up the boy and hugging him close was enough to make his vision blur. "You're awake, you're a l i v e!" Patryck put the boy down, hands-on Tord's cheeks as he cried for the life of his son. "You're alive. Thank god." Patryck hugged him again, and Tord didn't fight it. He had no reason to, he knew better than anyone Patryck must have been traumatized for these past 5 years. Gosh... had is really been that long? Now that he looked at his father, he could see the wear on his face. He gained a slight scar on his nose that was directly between his eyes, his icy blue eyes looked worn and he could smell the familiar alcohol that Tom had also carried.

        Paul also came over, pink eyes wide with surprise, yet he didn't say anything other than moving Patryck aside as Leader entered the room. Tord would admit he was surprised that Leader was still alive, he figured someone would have killed him by now with how horrid his leadership was. How old was this rag anyway? Must at least be in his 70's... God, how old was Tord? He was 18... plus 5.. maybe 23. 22 might also be possible if his birthday hadn't passed yet. Actually, nobody exactly knew Tord's birthday, so it was almost always claimed on June 20th, which was also Leader's birthday. But those weren't celebrated here.

         Leader grinned down at the boy, "Tord," he said in a voice much more ragged than Tord remembered, "Good morning. You seem rather refreshed-"

        "I feel like shit, actually." He raised an eyebrow and smirked back, he wasn't going to take another moment of this bullshit if he could help it. With this, Leader didn't seem all to pleased.

         Leader walked closer, Paul and Patryck stepping back to give the grey man room as he walked around Tord. He reached a hand to ruffle strawberry blonde hair, the younger man crossing his arms ready to throw a damn fit if Leader kept trying to groom him like before. He shivered at those memories, he felt disgusting from those. He literally just was Leader's toy for absolutely everything, wasn't he? He was a fucking child back then too, Tord would never wipe any of these memories of hate off his mind.

        

         "You think you're funny." Leader hissed, "did you really think you had a choice if you lived or not?"

         At this point, Tord could care less. 

         "Oh, I don't know," he began, "I think anyone would rather die than be in the same fucking room as you." Soldiers gasped, Paul and Patryck wide-eyed yet again in fear. Leader gripped strawberry blonde hair and pulled Tord to him, a deep growl on his tongue as Tord grinned in amusement. "Can't seem to take an insult, ja?" 

         Tord was done playing these fucking mind games.

-◇-

        "I can't believe he did that!" Patryck was panicking. Pacing back and forth in his shared room. His son just came back to him and was beaten to a pulp the moment he set one foot out of line. "He knows better!" He refused to accept reality, Tord was miserable here. He'd never be happy here. 

        On the other hand, his husband leaned back on their bed, humming lightly as he thought, "honestly I don't know why you're so surprised? It's Tord, he has always been a little you know uh." He made a circular motion in the air with his hand, earning a sharp glare from Patryck. Gosh, he knew Tord wasn't a bad kid. He just went through a lot that normal teens didn't.

         "Paul! I cannot believe how insensitive you're being-"

         "Oh my god, that's not what I fucking meant, Pat." 

Both stood in complete silence, Patryck standing completely still and hugging himself. The aura coming off Paul's husband was enough to turn guilt into a pain. He shouldn't talk to a man he loved so much in such a manner, despite if Patryck was being dramatic or not. Fighting fire with fire was never the solution. Paul couldn't keep going on protesting against everything, he had to be a good husband and try to communicate. An idea popped into his head, "how about we open the cage doors?" Patryck didn't seem to understand at first so Paul explained further. "A bird with clipped wings should still be free if it wishes." The one thing Tord wanted his entire life. More than anything that Paul or Patryck could offer. Freedom. Patryck's eyes lit up in sparkles, tackling his husband with a million kisses and calling him a genius. 

-◇-

         He was locked in his room now, but honestly, it didn't matter. He sighed, minding the IV stuck in his arm as he laid on his back to stare at the words and pictures he engraved onto the ceiling. He gripped his stomach as the words spoke to him, he understood every reason why he carved it too.

         Help me, it said. 

         Tord sighed, shifting to lay on his side and force his eyes closed. He felt like he was laying for hours as his body began to feel fuzzy and lucid. Before he could sleep a knock came from the door, Tord barely peering over his shoulder as light flooded the room and Patryck and Paul appeared. Great, them again. As much as Tord liked to see them, seeing them made him want to gag. "Get out." He hissed, returning to stare directly at the wall in front of him.

         "Tord," Patryck began, walking over to the boy calmly. Nodding at his husband as he passed and sat down at the foot of Tord's bed. "We were allowed a few minutes to talk to you." Something seemed... strange about how Patryck was speaking. It felt oddly cryptic... He combed a hand through Tord's hair and sighed, "I guess you're just flying with anger, huh? Haha.." What the hell was Patryck talking about- "I hear some soldiers are busy cleaning in another wing. Apparently, an 'accident' happened." Oh, now he understood.

        Rouge. Tom's bird, Tom left the cage door open and moved things around so the bird could leave when he wanted. "Which wing?" Tord smiled up at his father, Patryck seeming pleased with his work. 

        "West. I don't think they like birds there." He nudged Tord's side and stood up, brushing himself off as he waved Paul to follow him out. "Oh drat, our time is up. We love you, Tord. We'll miss you, norski." Norski? Patryck shrugged dramatically and turned on the platform of his foot as Paul winked at the boy and followed Patryck out. Tord sat up as Patryck and Paul waved their goodbyes to their son. As the door shut, Tord watched Patryck's face shift and begin to reach for the gun at his hip. Neither locked the door behind them, this was his moment.

        Tord never felt so excited in his life, was this really happening? It felt like a dream to him, god was he crying? He was! Patryck was right, the west wing was where most soldiers were. West was the communication and security wing, damn his fathers were genius! Tord pulled out his IV yet again and made a reach for the door, the feeling of walls beginning to crumble surrounded him. He walked out and pressed his back against the door as he silently closed it, glancing for any stray soldiers. When he saw none, he took the east as his escape, the little amount of soldiers and down cameras made this easier than anything he'd ever done. In his excitement, a soldier spotted him and tried to tempt fate and chase after, Tord taking the challenge with a bloodrush and lunged at the soldier, fighting through the twist of arms to get to the soldier's gun. A knee kicked at his stomach, Tord hardly felt it. His heart was thumping hard, from his head to his feet he could feel the rush. He gripped the man's wrist and twisted it, snapping the forearm bone and the man screamed in agony. He made a grab for the gun in the moment the soldier pulled back, it slipping into his hands easily. With one easy fling, Tord shot the man dead in the head.

        He noticed how much he liked guns, no, how much he loved them.

         His struggle had alarmed other soldiers to the scene, Tord having no choice but to pocket the gun and make a damn run for it. He didn't understand, but he eventually noticed something. Why was he just running to run? He knew this place like the back of his hand. Growing up in the same place for so long, you get familiar with what's around you. He dodged soldiers, easily slipping between their grasps. Soon his freedom was in sight, the exit bright and full of a world he needed to see. Tord practically ramming his body into the doors and outside into the fresh air. He... felt free. He felt like he was flying. 

         He didn't have much time on his hands, he had to act now or the soldiers would find him. They would drag him back to Leader and the thought felt disgusting, Tord felt himself gag on air at the memories of what Leader had made him do in the past, relentless training until he was coughing up blood and beatings until Tord was the same color as Tom's hoodie. He couldn't help but to stop and throw up, his past lurking behind him like a dark shadow, and it left him feeling worthless.

        No. I'm here. I'm alive. I am strong.

         He looked up at the stars above him, a smile spreading across his face as his silver eyes followed the moonlight. As if it was calling for him, a red metal body from a car caught his eyes. The tags of the car reading the familiar words his father had spoken- N0R5K1. How clever of a name for someone like Tord, he'd admit, he liked it. He approached slowly, checking inside and under the car inside of unwanted surprises before he opened the door and sat down in the drivers seat. Now, Tord knew how to drive. Edd had taught him how a while back, though he wasn't the absolute greatest at it. He needed a key to start the car, right? Yeah! He dug around in the car until finally finding the keys in the empty glovebox. As he fitted them in the socket and started the car, goosebumps grew on his skin from the excitement. Gosh, who knew how much Tord needed this chance at freedom? The remainder of the night became a blur, but he was free now and that was all that mattered to him.

        He felt like he had been driving for ages, and since that was the intended goal, he wasn't too angry about that. But he didn't remember choosing to park here and break for the night, he remembered choosing a parking lot! He must have been so tired he didn't notice- oh. Another note, great. God, where was he? The sun was blaring bright into the windows of the car, but it surprisingly wasn't very hot. "Dammit..." He rubbed his face as he looked up at the sky, still laying down in the back seat. 

        He reached out for the note, crumpling it slightly on accident as he pulled it from its surface. He really damn well wished he knew who kept sending him these, but they seemed trustable. This time, the handwriting was different than the last time he remembered it. But, it was another note regardless, it was bound to give Tord that fuzzy and unsettled feeling.

        "My Dearest Red,  
Upon my orders from my master, I have escorted you the rest of the way home. Please do not feel alarmed for I am not your enemy.  
Did you-"

        He didn't want to finish reading. This note was far more formal than the others, written on a little white card too while the others were on notebook paper or sticky notes. Whoever this was from was not the same person as before, but Tord could have sworn they had some sort of work relations. He couldn't dawn on it too much, because soon heard footsteps. "How long has it been there?" A high pitched voice spoke, the same one that taught Tord how to care for himself through raspberry chapstick. He could see the blurred colors from the reflection of the obscured rearview mirror.

        "I don't know, nor care." He recognized his voice and felt his heart stop. The only person who truly made Tord feel happiness. It couldn't be! This wasn't happening, he had to be dreaming! Hell, if Tord was, he never wanted to wake up. He slowly sat up, worn silver eyes meeting with the three colors presented before him. "Wait, is that-!" Tord could see the shock in voided eyes.

         The final boy spoke with joy in his tone, "TORD!" The blur of the green boy suddenly at the door was enough to scare Tord. The red boy jumping and pressing his back against the door opposite Edd. Tom and Matt soon appeared, relief in their eyes of a completely different kind. "It's really you, you're here! Gosh, am I scaring you? I'm sorry, guys let's give Tord some room." This was the first time someone cared for how Tord felt, and he couldn't help but feel his chest warm slightly because of it. He watched Edd and Matt back away, but... Tom. Tom was crying, and that was enough to have Tord finally push his way out of the car through the door his friends formally crowded. He stood awkwardly, hands pushed into the dirty red hoodie he was wearing.

         "Ah, hello, old friends."

         Edd was grinning until Tom's crying became alarming, but it was expected of a man who watched someone he used to love kill himself- to just have that same man randomly show up in a random car one day. Tom collapsed into tears, hugging Tord tightly, in fear that if he let go, the red hoodied man would turn into dust and vanish in the wind. Tord could hear the faint mumbles off Tom's mouth, a never-ending sea of apologies and 'I missed you's. The duo soon turned into a trio when Matt laughed, running over and hugging the duo, lifting them off the ground to spin them around, turning Tom's tears into gentle laughter. Tord was surprised by Matt's sudden strength and found himself laughing too. Edd seemed distant, but smiled anyway and joined in the group hug. Tord felt the warmth of their friendship to the core as if together the four of them were enough to stop any force. This was everything Tord ever wanted. This is his life now.

        This is paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a mess, but --- i reALLY had to get moving and not stall much longer -- you're welcome  
> feel free to ask questions  
> also OKAY, GUYS, I've had people message me already and YES I'm OKAY with you wanting to write inspired stories off TSOP. Infact I ENCOURAGE it because it motivates me. Feel free to write your own versions of something that happened or could of happened. Or heck if you want to draw it that's fine too! Speaking of drawings,  
> http://aminoapps.com/p/rwft6s1  
> http://aminoapps.com/p/o2i32a  
> have some TSOP art I doodled lol ! (One even got featured!! If you're from that amino post, hey! Welcome to paradise! :) We're here to break your heart.)
> 
> Welcome back everyone! Hopefully I keep on track with my regular friday updates.  
> -Pilot


	15. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's smiling again, the blood of our paradise dripping from his throat.  
> I'm not sure if this is really what he wanted.  
> He's with me forever, and I can't really complain.  
> I'm not sure if this is really what I wanted.

        "WHERE IS HE?"

        Patryck and Paul could hear Leader's ragged old voice screaming from across the damn base. Well, maybe that was being dramatic, but Leader was still being quite loud due to his "pet" running away. Patryck would never admit how proud he was of himself setting everything up. He and Paul were already brushed off the list of suspects to the fact they were assumed to also be locked away in their room for the night. Here was the fun fact about Patryck, he was a smart man. The woman who was supposed to be watching them had been his close friend for a rather long time now, and her name was Adria Wilson, Daniel's wife. At first, everyone thought she was a teen, but that information turned out to be wrong. She was the girl who influenced Tord killed an entire division of Leader's army.

        Regardless of what everyone else thought about Adria, she currently owed her life to Tord. If it weren't for him, the woman would be dead. So Patryck made a request that she would let them go but if anyone asked later, they were in their room the entire time. She had a reputation for lying, despite her recent good nature. It would be impossible to tell if she was telling the truth or not. Due to her life debt to the red boy, she agreed. Since her husband was long gone, she even offered for them to take his former car. It may have been a little well loved, but it'd do the trick for anything. Such as aiding the escape of a 23-year-old who lost his entire childhood to abuse. 

        They gladly used her car and it's location to set up Tord's escape, and Patryck would never forget the stars in Tord's eyes when he heard their plan. Tord looked so excited to finally open his wings and fly for the very first time, to see what choices he could make for himself. He didn't even protest, he just up and left as soon as the coast was clear. With that, Patryck felt happier doing what he thought was best for his son and being a proper father for once.

        Yet even the deed should not go unpunished. Leader had pinned the blame on Adria regardless of her alibi and had her brought to his feet. She was forced to stand in shame as her leader scolded her out in front of all the other soldiers, and they all were forced to watch as Leader showed everyone what exactly happens when people take his things. Paul and Patryck standing the closest to the front, watching in horror. He grabbed the German woman by her hair and pulled her head into the barrel of a gun and fired, the bullet going in through on side of her skull and out the other. A trail of blood following the path of the bullet as Patryck barely dodged its path. A trail of blood followed the path of the bullet as Patryck barely dodged its path. The tall soldier watched in slow motion as it soared past his nose. His skin burned as it was peeled, Paul's gasp and question blurred with the ringing in his ear, losing all sense of his empty reality. Adria's now dead body laid several feet away, Leader letting the blood pool under her to prove his point. 

        Patryck felt warm blood slowly rush down his face as well as icy tears. When dismissed, some soldiers remained to stare at her remains. Patryck and Paul couldn't stick around, knowing they had done this to her and that Patryck needed medical attention right away. They seemed confused about what happened and claimed it impossible, but there was no denying that Patryck had a scar on his nose from the bullet. This was his punishment, but he'd accept it. As long as Tord was safe.

        From afar, the unruly god watched and laughed as the goddess of words screamed in agony, accusing him of being a monster. She watched as everything she built began to crumble.

-◇-

        "Oh Todd, we missed you!" Matt's voice was so lighthearted and gentle, squeezing Tord's cheeks with pure content. "Where have you been?" It was like Matt wasn't there the day he jumped, but whatever. Tord was just pleased his friends wanted him with them. 

        "Oh, I've... been busy." He didn't know how to respond to the question much more past that. But his attention drifted to Tom, who was busy wiping tears off his face with his sleeves. Looks like Tom really did care after all, gosh, how cute. Tord found himself smiling at the sight of mixed emotions Tom was currently feeling. Clearly, Tom was still a pathetic crybaby when he was sober. Hey, he wasn't complaining it was just that Tom never changed and that made him oddly charming.

        Edd's voice chirped in, "are you just visiting?" Hope written in his expression that Tord would never leave. Never. To stay with him. Forever. Never leave me, the face said. 

        "Ah," Tord felt displaced and at unease, "I guess. I have nowhere else to go." Maybe that was the wrong moment to say that. Matt stared down in confusion, Tom seemed even more torn, and Edd only gently laughed that warming tone Tord grew accustomed to.

        The green boy pointed up his index finger, closing his eyes as his weight shifted with a kind grin. "Dad..'s? Kicked you out too, huh?" It wasn't exactly kicking Tord out, but the strawberry blonde felt he had no point in explaining his situation to someone so innocent. "No problem, we have an extra room you can stay in! Right next to m̷i̵n̸e̸." Tord felt Matt's arm clench at his shoulder while holding the side of his head, but it ended quickly with Matt releasing both Tom and Tord to clap his hands with excitement.

        Tom seemed unfazed, hands shoved into his hoodie as he stretched out, "ya'll are lame. I'm heading inside." Says the one who just broke into tears after seeing your ex was alive. Tom averted his eyes and walked up the walkway before heading inside of a very... brightly colored house. Did they all live here? That was strange yet... nice. All of his friends in one place, it made him slightly excited to finally have a place to go to that wouldn't be as toxic as the base was. Matt soon followed after Tom, turning to smile and wave at Tord as he shut the door leaving Edd and Tord alone.

        "Sooooo...? What do you say?"

        "Hva?"

        Edd's laughter made the tight feeling in his stomach ease, all the anxiety he had been feeling was gone now. "Are you staying?" Edd really gave him no other choice, not with that face and the fact Tord had nowhere else to go. Plus, living under a roof with his three other friends didn't sound so bad.

        So Tord agreed, nodding his head softly as Edd's brown eyes exploded with life, "awesome! We're going to have so many fun adventures together. Just the twwwwwwo-- d̴o̸e̷s̴n̷'̷t̷t̴h̶a̵t̶s̴o̶u̶n̸d̴f̵u̶n̴,̵l̶o̵v̵e̷?̵w̸h̸y̷w̴o̸n̴'t̶y̴o̵u̷l̴o̷v̴e̶m̸e̶l̴o̷v̵e̷m̷ę̶̵̷̟̳̜͈̬̦͂̽̽͒̚͘L̴̩̲͖͚͕͍̇͑̊͂͌̈́Ọ̶̢̘͋̽̅͐͝͠V̴̺̫̳̈̿̓̄̈̇E̷̡͙̞͓̱̙̎̉M̴̨͗̽̽E̸͇̩̤͙̟̅́͌̉̍L̵̜̬̰͈͚͔̃̆́͝Ơ̷̩̔̃V̶̜̻̻͋͂͛Ȩ̵̛͖̘̑̎͛M̶͍̼͙̤͔͓̓͌E̷̡͕̤͔̮̹͐̽̅̿͊͠.--

 

        Ş̷̡̨̮̺̍̔́̏̚ö̷̡̤̭͓̟̱́͘ ̸̜͖̾̈́̅͆͝Ţ̵͓̓̑͘ö̴̰́̐͗̚r̶̨͍̹͍̓ḍ̷̎ ̶͕̫͛͋͑̽̒͝ȁ̶͋̔̿̌ͅg̷̭̯̍͆̄͑r̸̛̻͔̤͎̪̞̂̎̇e̷̢͓̮̭̪̅ͅḛ̸̭̟̣̞̩̎͌̈́d̸̤͎̰͕̟̯̉,̸̱̄̽̐͑̏͜͝ ̸̙̻͙̙̆̃͊n̶͈̂͑͒̃͒͌o̴̝͆̍́d̶̘̅̌̋̿̎̚d̷̹͕͍̣͒̆̄̕͘i̴̺̬̜̽̿̔̓͝n̸͍̠̖̍̊̄̇g̷͈̝̺̐̿̚̕ ̸̡̟̲̤̦̏̑̌̓̓ḧ̶̩͓̞͕̬̬̈̒i̴̧̱̪̽s̸͉͐͑͊͑ ̵̻̜̳͍͂̄̆͠ḣ̷̥͖e̷̡̼͖͂̔a̶̰͔̝͔̥̎d̵͓̆͌̍̈́ ̴̝̪̺̈͜s̵̼̟͇̈́̉̊̀͋̏o̶̼̟̱͇̻͂͗f̴̝͉͈̩̩̯͊̆̑̕t̸̢̮̱̞̂̊̈́̿̕ḷ̸̢̦̫̽̈́̒͘͠y̵͈̼͚̍̾̉̅̓̍ͅ ̷̹̺̥̘̪̰͒ā̵̲́͘ş̴̝̳̜̞̱̏̍͊ ̵̢͙̘̗̀E̴͙̱̲͐͌̋͗d̷̮̀d̵̩̝̭̻͆̈̅'̸̢̛̦͓̫̟̥́͂͊̏ṡ̶̢̰̠̌ ̵̫̱̦̪̰̃̿̆͝b̵̜̆̊̓r̶̘̰͇͐ō̴̜̆͋ẇ̵̩̐͜n̵͇̟̭̋̕̚͝ ̷̱̯̽̈́̀̊͘e̷͕̮̯͍̿͑͐y̶̨̟̖͎͛̃̃̅̚͜͝ͅe̴̖͇̤̘̤͒͌̊͝ͅs̶̢̧̳̺̦̹͑̍͂̓͛ ̶̢̜͇͓̲̭́͑͘e̶̢̡̛̦͋̔͂̃͜ẋ̷̠̳̙̾p̶̰͓̩͎̔̅́l̶̟͌͋̒́ỏ̴̧̱̽͠d̷͓͙͕̓̍͂̄̓e̶̲͓̻͇̙̟̍̐d̵̲̱͊̈́̄ ̴̨͓̩̱͙̐̐̇̚ẅ̸͈̝́̽̑̽̕i̵̳̞̺̯̟͔̽t̸̙̭̣̞͎͙̓̇̐̆h̸̹͒͐̅̀ ̵̺̼̝͑l̶̞̹̺͌͋̈̊i̶̘̘͆f̴̙̱̭̯̝͊̃̌͜ë̷͙̹͖̠̻̤́̈́̊̊̌͊,̷̡̫̜͘ ̵̰̠͚̖̯̓̔̈̇"̵̹̳̬̊å̶̹̞̟͘͝ẁ̶͙̮̇̒̄̃e̸̐́̚̚͝ͅs̸͉͙̝̤̟̣̍͂ő̸̗̹̺̘̤̺̾̃m̵̡͍͇̺̱̫̈͌̔͘e̷̬̘͓̋͠͠!̶̝̲͆ͅ ̶͍̤̻͇͗̏W̶̱̝̌́̾̈͛̕ȩ̸̨̥̐͗̈́̆͛̔'̶̧̜̳̎̉͛̊r̴̘͈̈́̈́̈́̉͜͝é̵̛̪͔͈̻̤̲̉͗ ̶̦̱̳̤̥̊͜g̵̨̗̜͈̻̈́͠ó̷̪̣͓̻̲̓ĩ̸̩n̶̰̼͉͎͈͋̆̇̕̚͜͝g̵̛͚̭̥̍͒͌̔́ ̶̧̛̯͎͕͎̱͊̅̎t̸̨̻͉̮̳̍́̏o̴̬̺͙̔̈̎ ̴̤̝̱̠̳̱͑̽̎͂h̴̲̙͐̀̉͑͊ä̴̻́v̵̧̪̩͙̯̇͛͜ḙ̶̲͕̣͌ ̸̞̬̖͌͛̓͝s̴̛͖͌̿̍͠o̸̧̬̎̂̓͌͝ ̵̢͕͙͂̈́͊͘m̷̟̲͎͉͖̽͠ͅa̶̖̮̓͑̓́̊n̴̩̬͆͂͑̑̕ẏ̷̹͉͚͖̮ ̷̪̩͗͂̓̐̒͘f̶̛̰̭̱̪͗̈́̒ͅu̶̻̹̅̾͝ñ̴͍͍̅̋̄̏ ̴̛̹̮̙̇͑̽͠a̶̻̤̓͌̋͂̑d̶͉̓́ṿ̸͙̾͛ȩ̴͎̖̫̬̺̐̃̽̍ņ̶̯̠̹̲̄͛̈̽͊̌ͅẗ̵̨̛̰̰̉̌̅͘u̸͎̅͗͠ṛ̷̨̮̮̈̓̔̇e̸̟̳͓̤͑͠s̴̨̝͉̦̳̆̃͐̈́ ̸̩̗̩̖͋t̷̞͖͛̍o̵͔͔͊̐ģ̷̈́ę̷̘̩̮̺͌ͅt̸̼̖̑̌̈́̚͝ĥ̷̛̰̾̃̿̕e̷̳͇̝͐͛̾̉͋̕r̶̡̫̫̭̈͑̈̈́̿̎͜.̵̡̰̻͠ ̶̢̘̝̺̈̓J̶̳͓̎̑͆͘̕ư̶̱͌̉̃͂̌s̴͙͙̈́̅̉̐͑͠ţ̶̤͈̹͋͂͋̑̌̕ ̷͇̖̦̘͗̎̈̍ẗ̸͙͍̬̯̿͗̑͋̒h̴̖̱̾̂é̷̢̩̘͇͙̱̑̕̕͠ ̴̹͖̖͖̣̋t̷̩̜̝̖͓̗͑̒̈́̚w̷̞͓̋w̸͎͗̏͗͐͌w̵̡̻͕͂̿͌̑w̵̡̛͍͉͇̅̿̽̉͝w̶̙̒̏w̸͓̣̭͛̍................

.......

        Edd seems stressed, too. The least Tord could do was be a good friend. So Tord agreed, nodding his head softly as Edd's head twitched and brown eyes exploded with life, "awesome! We're going to have so many fun adventures together. Just the... four of us!" Edd suddenly seemed annoyed, looking up at the sky with a slightly annoyed look. He wasn't the god here, he had to stop trying to play it. "Come on, let's get you inside." Edd pulled Tord's arm and took him inside, the two other boys sitting on the couch in silence. Whatever show was playing, Tord didn't seem to take much interest in it. Maybe the boys liked it, but that didn't say much for him. Edd only dragged Tord along past Matt's room and then Tom's until they reached the room Edd expected Tord to stay in. "It only has a bed and dresser, but I'm assuming you'll add your anime stuff in their later."

        He remembered back to the memory when Edd had tried to pull a goofy dance just to make Tord smile, it was strange yet such a heartwarming memory. "I'm shocked you remember that." 

        "How could I forget?" Edd gave a blank stare and Tord felt uneasy yet again. "Our alone time when we were young was mostly us watching your shows. Seeing a friend's face light up means the world to me." Even after all these years Tord has been in a coma, Edd hadn't changed a bit. He was still exactly what Tord needed, and should have wanted. Edd reached for the handle of the door and fiddled it open, apologizing for the handle because it was so old and then finally displayed the room. Overall Edd was basically right. The room had the same yellowish orange walls as the outside halls, a simple bed, and a dresser. Not like Tord would really have a use for a dresser when all he had was the clothes on his back and a car. 

        Edd waved a hand in front of Tord's face and whistled softly to grab the red male's attention, "if you ever need anything, my door is basically right there." Then he pointed to the door on the end of the hall that was wide open. An unfamiliar cat resting on the green carpet seeming to drown it in purrs, kneading her paws into the soft fabric. "Oh! That's Ringo, by the way. She's super friendly, as long as you aren't Matt and you feed her." Tord felt slightly uncomfortable with the house cat but he'd learn to deal with it over time. "Matt tends to trip on her by accent." 

        "Thanks, Edd." He tried to smile, really confused on how to handle this situation. He already knew trying to fake anything with his friend was basically impossible, why was he even trying at this point? On cue, Edd said something. His posture was strange, most of his body stiff and using one hand to make motions.  He watched his friend shrug and cross his arms, Tord knew he wasn't out of the den just yet.

        Tord lowered his head, feeling like a lost puppy with his tail between his legs. Edd leaned down to get a better view of Tord's face, sighing at the sight. "I don't know what happened to you." Liar, the demon screamed. Run, little red, run. "But I promise you, you're safe here with us." Tord pushed the demon deep down, smiling at Edd's words with hope for the future. Edd placed a hand on Tord's shoulder and patted lightly before walking back to the other boys in the living room. Matt was sitting upside down which wasn't too unusual, and Tom was on a lone chair with his flask in hand. Honestly, Tord was surprised it lasted so long. Edd joined Matt on the couch, leaving Tord with no other choice but to sit on the floor between Matt and Tom. He preferred not to squish himself awkwardly into the couch. 

        He felt eyes on his neck, a slight shiver running up his spine and he turned to see Tom staring at him. The blue man raised an eyebrow at Tord before leaning back and turning his focus back to the TV. The many unspoken words between them seemed to be growing to be a longer and longer list, the longing feeling for Tord to curl to his ex and beg for forgiveness was painful. As he looked away he felt the gust as Tom swiftly stood and left the room, "I can't," was the only thing Tord heard the man say.

        Should he follow? Would that be stalking? Yeah, pretty sure it would be considering he's Tord's ex-boyfriend. Little strange to start following him literally everywhere. Oh... but the urge was so great to just go and follow. 

        He felt Matt poking his shoulder, and it was only proper if he addressed the man. "I'm going to get popcorn, you want some too?" The ginger was grinning with that smile that spoke 'please say yes' so Tord felt obliged to agree, nodding his head as Matt popped off his spot of the couch and dashed to the kitchen with a simple "okay!" Tord began to wonder without Edd, where would Matt be? He knew it was hard for Matt to take care of himself, not only because of his memory loss but because of his open heart to care for others. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets and sank lightly, staring at the commercials on TV with Edd in silence. Why did he feel like he was being watched? He only sank down more until he felt something small cold in his pocket. After removing his arms and pulling the object out be smiled in content. 

        The raspberry chapstick.

        He heard Edd snicker behind him, the Norwegian taking a pillow with his free hand and tossing it at the green britt. "Hey!" His friend shouted in amusement, swinging another pillow he was just laying on back at Tord. "I allergic to pillow fights." 

        Tord rolled his eyes, pushing the pillow at Edd one last time, "that's bull." He knew Edd was teasing, but he'd play along. He had nothing else to do anyway. He only watched as Edd grinned and then gasped dramatically, the whole body jumping up as he grasped where his heart was and pretended to fall back onto the arm of the couch, limp. His tongue stuck out and eyes shut tight as he tried to hold back tears of laughter. Matt had returned to the room at this time, placing the popcorn down as be gasped in full belief that something actually happened to Edd. "Oh my god Matt, he's fine!" 

        The ginger didn't seem to believe him, checking over the green friend over and over; squishing his cheeks, stretching them out, hell even slapping him all to see if Edd was okay. "You never take chances, Tord!" Matt snapped in panic, giving up when he noticed Edd too was laughing and trying to weakly push away. "Don't," he began firm, "e v e r scare me like that!" 

        Tord was clutching his stomach in laughter, yet in the corner of his eye, he could see Tom standing in the dim lighting of the hallway. Staring, and he too was smiling at the sight. It'd be best if Tord didn't look at him and just enjoyed the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's Pilot! I j̵u̵s̸t̴ w̵̹̃ȧ̷̮n̴̤̿t̵̗̏e̴̦̚ď̶͔ ̷͉̈t̴̻͌ȯ̵̙ ̷̱̌t̵̺̎e̵̤͗-
> 
>  
> 
> ...is this a joke? Is this all we are?  
> ...I think it's about time I took over the notes, Reader. I hope you don't mind, I just found out it may be my only way to speak to you. Since... the author notes aren't exactly you know... part of the story. She wanted to tell you that since Wattpad gets the short end of the stick, Wattpad will be getting small bonus chapters every now and then... yeah...  
> Goodbye, Reader. I don't understand why you enjoy this.


	16. My Beautiful Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You want to know what happened to me? Fine! I'll show you!"  
> -Starlight Glimmer

        Their worst nightmare finally occured, Patryck and Paul were forced into seperate divisions. Now that Tord was gone, Leader saw no use for them. Deep down both partners knew it was out of spite, to make one speak out so he had a reason to punish them. Did he really need an excuse? No. He just wanted to maintain his appearance of being a half decent leader for once. That's all that fucking mattered to him anyway. To Paul, Patryck was gone. He hadn't heard anything from his husband in months while at this point he was ready to give up and break down. First his son, then his husband. What else does he have anymore? His only purpose was gone.

         Paul felt like his entire life was being drained from him, he missed his husband with every piece of his ached soul. What kind of monster would do this? At this point, he began to miss his beloved. But he couldn't let any of his distract him from the goals at hand. Maybe... maybe if he pleased Leader enough he could be relocated with his husband. 

         "Fuck!" 

         Paul yanked his hand away from the device, holding the freshly scoarched skin to his mouth as he glared at the wiring. That's the 8th time he'd shocked himself and you think he'd put some damn gloves on. 

         He was beginig to hate this damn device. Sure, he'd been meaning to study it for years, but jesus. This was the strange device that Patryck and himself had found at the crashsite where Tord was all those years ago. Why was he just now getting to it? Rasing a teenage boy was a pain in the ass, that's why. At least finally he had the time to get to it and figure something out. Even if he really hadn't gotten that far. It was broken, that he knew. But he also had no clue how to fix it. Maybe since it had Tord's weird symbol, maybe he knew how it worked. Wait, fuck, Tord isn't here. He's somewhere Paul couldn't reach.

         The man groaned in annoyance, picking and soadering together what he could. Maybe who left it behind broke it on purpose... no, no it didn't look that way. It looked like it was dropped by the owner- oh god, was there another person involved with the crash? Paul felt himself begining to feel sick at the thought that this could be a dead man's property. But what didn't add up was the damm symbol, why did Tord suddenly start drawing it years later if he never saw it before?

         Then it hit him. How the symbol looked like Tord... it was left behind at their crash site... Tord... must of been snooping! He felt mildly proud of himself as he contuined working, this time at a faster pace. He literally had nothing else to do besides this, anyway.

         Jesus, this was a lot harder than he thought it was going to be- ZZZZZzzzp.... He felt the eletric current shock him again, the world suddenly turning to pure light. Dammit. Wait, what happened? Where was he? As the world returned to color, he noticed he was in a forest.

         "Slow down!" A fimilar voice cried with laughter, Paul unable to put his finger onto it.

        "Make me!" Laughed another, and this one was fimilar too.

-◇-

         He'd been living with his friends for a couple days now, and... he loved it. Every moment they spent together was something new, every moment the past seemed to be more and more of a blurr and for once he felt like his own person, his own fire. He became expressive but it was all real this time and he understood how to be happy. Today mostly between himself, Edd and bacon. He never knew both had such a love for the food. Almost all morning they fought over it, and Tord rather not repeat how it ended. Almost every night he made it back to bed somehow. Did he mention the boys and himself were murdered once? None of them questioned when they suddenly woke up okay.

         But dear god, he was tired. Even if it was an easy day, Edd found a way to wear him down. But there was still daylight, and with daylight came a productive Tord. You know, ever since he moved in he never really explored his room. He just let his gun collection grow and cover the walls, provactive posters or his other random trinkets scattered the room. He didn't ever go in his closet... jesus. Maybe he should go in there and start moving his things. The norski picked up his shoes and hoodie to pick them as the first item to go inside of the closet. As he walked closer to that side of the room, he realized something he never looked at before. 

        He dropped his hoodie and shoes on the floor to inspect the unfimilar piece. Running his fingers among a random picture that rested against the wall of a button. It seriously had no purpose, it was just a picture. At least that's what he thought until he found yet another note on the fancy cardstock.

         "My Dearest Red,  
My master requested your lab to be installed. Please remove the-"

         He had't had time to finish reading the stranger's note yet again as he accidently knocked the picture off the wall to reveal a lever. He was pretty sure this wasn't here before when they had painted the walls the dark red they currently were. He ran his finger among the fimilar symbol that adorened the object, the spiked horns of the shape making him smile. Ah yes, he remembered this. This beautiful symbol of him. His life, his accomplishments... all were welcomed memories. 

         Maybe he should pull the lever, the note with it did mention a lab. Could it be that there was a secret room on the other side? He felt himself get overwhelmed in excitement as he pulled the lever with ease. Only to step back in shock as the walls began to smoothly slide apart revealing the mentioned lab behind them.

         "Oh..." Tord began, checking the now missing walls one last time before stepping into the lab. It was like a whole other room he could really get used to having. It appeared to be empty, for the most part, and even had test rooms that seemed to connect to it. The entire room was clean, as if somebody was here rececntly. He felt himself shiver realizing this meant someone was in his room building this. He felt himself being watched and it made him uncomfortable, Tord turning his head to stare out the window behind him... but nobody was there. Maybe he's just paranoid, yeah that must be it. Tord tried to shrug it off and began to walk around the lab, soon finding a fimilar red toy robot sitting on a table. As much as he wanted to goof with the robot again and fill the offered gunrack with his children, he needed a glass of water. This was a lot to take in for one boy.

         He stumbled a little walking down the stairs of the lab's upper platform. Sometimes, too clean was a little much. That was the case for these overly slippery stairs. He moved on from them and stepped out of the lab, looking back over the note so he could figure out how the hell he was supposed to close this thing.

        "-Master. He said just clap twice and the doors will collpase-"

        Well that was simple enough, so Tord followed the note's instructions and clapped twice as the walls collapsed in and hid the lab once more behind red walls. He'd leave the lever where it was for now, since nobody else really would be waking in his room to see it. From here, Tord turned on his heel and walked out of his room, shoving the cursed note into his pocket. You know, one day he should really read everything on the notes. He couldn't help it if they were the last thing on his mind sometimes. 

         Tord exited his room and made the hike down the hallway to get himself some water, his throat feeling dry from all the internal screaming. But, it wouldn't be life if it didn't throw yet another surprise at him. See, the hallway was home to all four of the boy's rooms. Edd's was at the end on the right, Tord's was next to Edd's on the left, Tom's was at the end to the left, and Matt's was between Tom and Tord's rooms. Edd apparently made a huge deal about why Tom and Tord shouldn't have rooms next to each other, maybe that's why Tom and Edd were so on edge with each other lately. But from the other end of the hall he could hear very faint yet gentle music. He had tried to rule it out as either Matt or Tom listening to their phones or something, but after hearing a bird sing in reply- Tord was sure it was Tom and was more than just listening to his phone. The sound was offly fimilar to a flute, did Tom even play the flute? Apprently he did.

         Tord couldn't help himself but to peak into the room through the crack in the door, and the sight he saw nobody would believe. Tom sat on his bed next to the window, comfortably playing to the birds that also rested in his room. He He counted at least 15 different types of small birds- and Tord knew these weren't Tom's. They were just birds who willingly came to watch Tom play, and sing back. Oh my god, Tom was literally a prince. He felt himself losf in the music, leaning more and more against the door until he fell into the room with a scream.

         "Holy heaven on a bottle- Tord!" He could hear Tom's gasp of alarm as he tried to comfort his feathered friends. "You scared them, asshole." 

         The blue in the room was still overwhelming, but then again Tom most likely felt the same way about the other boy's rooms. Edd's was green from the ceiling to the carpet, Matt's room... Tord actually never been in Matt's room. He wouldn't know. "I'm sorry if I was curious why I heard birds singing." 

         He watched as Tom's expression became soft as he sighed, his movements gentle so he wouldn't scare the birds as he began to release them through the open window. "You could of at least knocked." Each bird willingly flying off without a single fight. "Aren't you going to leave?" 

         "You look so pretty that I don't think I want to." Wait what. Wait no, he wasn't supposed to say that out loud. He could see Tom's face change to shock and confusion. "Ah... you didn't need to hear that. I'll just go-"

         "No! Wait," Tom jumped, grabbing for Tord's wrist as the man tried to escape, "please don't go."

         "Did you just say please?"

        "Tord, seriously."

-◇-

         Ughhh... his everything hurt. Sounds of the loud children didn't help much either. The electric shock made it hard to see what was going on, all he could see was a blurr or black dots. So the two figures he saw were just blobs of green and red. Or maybe those were just dots too, because honestly these spots came in all colors.

        Reguardless, the two figures appeared to be running and laughing. One voice he knew on the spot, his beloved son. The other sounded like his friend, Egg? Edg? Edd?? Oh boy Paul really didn't take time to know his son's friends and it was begining to bite him in the ass. All he knew was that the figure wore at least something green and was a friend. Paul guessed it was Edd. Wait. Wasn't there two that wore green? Tom was blue and Paul knew that by heart, but between the boy um.. Ratt? Batt????? Dammit. 

        "I'm going to get you eventually!" Tord laughed, "surrender while you can!" 

         Paul wished Patryck was here to watch this. Seeing Tord so... happy. So content with his friends. No leader to hurt him, no army to hold him back, just Tord being the person he wanted to be. So that's what the machine was, right? It's... a teleporter! He couldn't believe this type of technology was even possible. Man, what a crazy world they lived in.

        He was watching the boys enjoy themselves, sometimes stop to catch breath or let the other catch up- in some sort of game of tag. It was honestly the cutest thing- oh god! One of the boys had suddenly slipped into a ditch. Paul felt his blood run cold in panic as Tord's face filled with fear and ran to the muddy edge to look down for his green friend.

        "Oh god-" He heard Tord choke back his cries and terror as he stared down, Paul arriving right as Tord did and... for some reason Tord didn't even look at him. He brushed it off and stared down at that poor boy who had fallen... "SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!" Tord shouted, looking around desprately. "TOM-! MATT-!"

         He couldn't bare the sight. As for the boy...

         It was everywhere. Blood, brain matter, chunks of skull scattered across the stones. He felt like he wanted to laugh, the bile pulling violent jerks from his body as it screamed for escape. No no, this isn't how it's supposed to be. He was supposed to be with him, running through the forest with his beloved friend and enjoying their time together. Faintly, his friend's cries in agony were heard, calling for somebody, anybody. His eyes rolled to watch more more of the crimson liquid ooze from his head and off onfo the smooth rock. He felt emotionally dead.

         Slowly, he looked to the sky, and he could see it all. He could see what they couldn't, and he realized what disgusting paradise he was in. What disgusting hands he had fallen into. Maybe, just maybe he could fix this.

-◇-

         "You mean to tell me.. you've been playing the flute for years and never said anything?" Tord thought he knew everything about Tom, turns out, that spark of surprise never escaped him.

         He watched as Tom nodded slowly, "ah, yeah. I also play the bass! The birds like both." What a bird loving fuck boy. "Please don't tell the others. I don't want them knowing I'm... lame."

         "I'm sure they will find out eventually." 

         "I- still!" Tom studdered out his words, stomping his foot like an innocent toddler. 

         He found himself laughing as Tom crossed his arms in annoyance. "Alright alright I won't tell!" Seriously he didn't think this would be how his night was bound to end, "well then, My Prince, I'll leave you alone." He wiped away a tear that managed to push through from his laughter. 

         "Y o u r Prince..." Tom didn't just beg him to stay to explain what he was doing, he wanted to talk about them. Who they used to be, together. As Tord turned to leave once more Tom found himself desprate, quickly bolting to wrap his arm's around Tord's waist from behind. The norski didn't seem to expect this, but placed an hand on Tom's arm and smiled back at him, listening to the soft sound of the blue one's breathing. "Stay, please..."

         Inside, he felt warm. He managed to face Tom without leaving his grasp, a smirk painted onto his cursed face, "however could I tell you no?" Eventually the hold turned into a kiss, and a kiss turned into a tangle of limbs lost under the blue bedsheets.

         Rumor has it, Tord didn't return to his room last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Reader! What a pleasure to see you.  
> I'm... going to ignore what happened this chapter. I mean it's not like Tom was his first. I'm fine with ah, one loss. I'll still win, right? Right. 
> 
> Anyway, Pilot made a new story named Pink Project! If you haven't seen it already, go read it! It's super short chapter wise but hey even I like it!  
> Goodbye, Reader! Until next time.
> 
> Next chapter title: Giant Robot


	17. Giant Robot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluffy tomtord in tsop? Gross

        "GET DOWN!" his ally shouted, grabbing onto the back of his blue coat and pulling him out of the line of fire. Patryck barely dodging the bullets that soared past him, watching as his ally helped to patch him. "I can't believe Leader hasn't called a retreat yet. We're dropping like flies." He'd met this soldier before, he was from mexico, right? He almost always bleached his hair, and never showed his eyes. He met this soldier shortly after relocation, and never caught his name.

        "Thanks... uh..."

         "Orion." The soldier said briskfully.

         "Thank you, Orion." Patryck wrapped one of his wounds as the soldier began to ramble on about how Leader was risking important lives. All that mattered was that Paul wasn't here nor was Tord, both of them would be safe and that was all that mattered. He peaked at the enemy from one side of the barricade, watching as each of his allys fell one by one. Great. Just great. He was going to die here and he'd never get the chance to see him again. "Do you have extra ammo?"

         Orion froze mid speech and stared at the man that sat infront of him with a gun held tight in his hands, "Que- what why?" He questioned, "you're not going out there, right? You'll die!" At least this soldier was trying to spare his life, but there was something in Patryck that made him careless right now. He'd throw himself in the fire if it meant having a chance to win and get home. Orion seemed to understand this and took a deep breath as he gave his remaining ammo to Patryck. "You're not going to make it out alive. Are you sure about this?"

         "What else is there to do? Sit here and wait to die? No thanks." The man hissed in reply, he had to do this. He had to do it for his family. If I don't make it, he thought, please have mercy on my family. He bolted out from behind the barricade and fired with his life and soul, adrenaline numbing the burn of bullets that managed to catch him.

         It had been an hour, passing as a blurr as more and more fell to h i s feet. Decesed allys and enemies laid around him, blood staining deep into his bright blue coat. He killed all of them. Every single last one of them. Some of his allys helped, but most ended up dying. The surviors stared at the tall soldier in shock as he huffed and coughed up his own blood. At least Paul and Tord were safe. 

         He fell to his knees, his rifle begining to slip from his limp arms. As he collapsed into the bloodstained grass he was thinking of them. His family. His husband, his son- the only people Patryck truly cared for. He was unsure of his own fate as his eyes slipped closed, memories of happier times were appearing in the moment. He smiled because of them, knowing because of him and his choices, Tord could contuine to make memories like those. Knowing that Paul would be safe enough to remember them. I love you, he thought, I miss you. As his allys rushed to him, his world faded.

-◇-

         That was the best night of his life. Nothing could stop that, nor top it. He woke in the morning curled in bed with his roommate... ex-boyfriend... what was their relationship anymore? Gosh, he didn't care. That night was to absolutely die for. "Tom?" The man mummbled, poking lightly at the other's cheek. It would appear Tom was still fast asleep and wouldn't be waking up any time soon. Luckily for Tord, this gave him time to think over everything that happened within the last 24 hours. This had to of been a dream, it just had to. The pinched himself and wheezed, realizing that did absolutely nothing and it only made Tom laugh at him. Ah, so he was awake.

         "Don't pinch yourself, idiot." Tom's gentle smile seemed to light the room, the peck of his lips against the norski's making Tord melt all over again. This was bliss, a super-paradise he'd never let go of. "Good morning." Tom reached out an arm to open the window next to his bed once more, Rouge happily hopping into the room from outside. Tord wasn't exactly sure where Rouge had gone last night, but he guessed it was a normal thing. Tom shut the window once Rouge was back inside, yawned, and curled back up comfortablly in the other's arms. "I never noticed how many scars you have..."

         Tord let one of his hands move to Tom's hair, brushing through it with a huff, "you've never seen me without clothes on period." Which wasn't such a bad thing, it made the moment more memorable and nice for both of them. He hummed at the memory, kissing the top of Tom's head with a content feeling. If each of them truly wanted this, maybe hey could start over. "So, are we a thing again? Or was this just a fling and you're ready to kick me to the side." 

         "Hm, I don't know if you deserve it." Tom tapped at his own lip, a smug look crossing his face to just tease Tord in the worst way possible. "I think you're an asshole, personally."

         "I-" Tord bit his lip and rolled his eyes, "says the one who was absolutely begging for me last night." His own expression showing how much of an ass he really was, an asshole that regained his boyfriend.

         "So uncalled for, Tord!" Tom laughed as Tord shifted back on top of him again, pressing soft kisses against his throat and up his jawline. The warm fuzzy feeling turning in his stomach as his boyfriend's hands gripped his wrists and held him down again. Bubbles of laughter and content spilling from Tom's mouth.

         This was pure happiness.

         Something Tord finally understood.

         Before they could continue, someone came knocking at the door, a cheery voice sounding from the other side, "Tord? I know you're in there! It's your turn to take out the trash!" Oh god, how did Matt know he was in here? Did he hear? Was he in Tord's room-? Maybe Edd told him. Wait! Was Edd in his room? Fuck!

         "I'll be right out!" He called in reply, looking down at the red and confused Tom that laid under him. "He heard, didn't he?" He could just see the reactions on Matt's face last night and he felt somewhat guilty. But it was bound to happen eventually.

         He felt Tom push up against him in attempt to flee, "oh I don't know, asshole, maybe you shouldn't shout so fucking loud."

         "Yeah?" Tord released him, slipping out of the bedsheets to start picking up his clothes. Fuck, he left his hoodie in his room. Oh well. "How about we also gag you next time? Sounds good to me." He pulled his pants back up, snorting at Tom's expression. He seemed embarassed. "No? What a shame, you would of ah-!" Tom threw a pillow at him. A fucking pillow. Seriously. He picked up the pillow from off the ground and tossed it back, watching as it planted right in Tom's face.

         "Hey-!" Matt could wait a little longer, he supposed, shifting back over to the bed to seize Tom's wrists again and hold him steady. A soft gasp as he pushed in a kiss against the other's collarbone, feeling the other's body arch from the touch. It felt too sweet, a sort of white sound blocking out the moment to where it was just himself and Tom. Just the two of them, together they were finally at some strange sence of happiness.

         Once he let the teasing carry on for a while until both knew it had been too long already, Edd and Matt would be waiting for them outside. They'd always have plenty of time later to return and contuine their affairs, you know. Hey, that reminded him. He really needed to get to the lab. He and Tom shared another kiss before splitting off (once Tord finished trash though. Matt would have been up in the air about that if it hadn't gotten done.) in different directions. His room was just as he left it aside from a small box was left on his bed, maybe from the myst- oh wait! Nevermind, it's just from- "hey what the fuck?" Tord pulled out the object with a blank stare, it's leather feeling smooth in his hands. A collar. He was holding a collar. Not for a pet either- was this some sick joke? It even had his name on it! He placed it back on his bed, feeling slightly uncomfortable as memories of Leader flashed back into his mind.

         What was he doing again...? Right! The lab. Tord hurried back over to the lever and once again exposed the beautiful room. Savoring the clean feeling of it... he could live in here, you know. Tord already explored the lab so he figured he'd think of an item and go searching for it. Ah!

         The little robot! 

         The red boy skipped on his feet until he reached the table, at ease as he picked up the small red toy Edd had given him so long ago. It was still so clean and so new... he moved the arms up and down with a slight snicker, oh man he missed this. He swung the toy in the air as if it were flying, enjoying the look of the outlined red metal against the light. He hummed, moving away from the table and through the room with the robot letting his inner childhood heart soar. He hadn't felt this type of joy in ages... gosh... who knew just a little time with Tom could get him on a love high. He laughed to himself as he leaned back onto a podium, not minding the soft click he heard under him as he yet again raised the robot into the air. He felt like a damn nerd, but he deserved a moment like this. After everything Tord had went through, he had basicly begged for this.

        Just because he was distracted, didn't mean he didn't hear the sound of a hard object hitting the floor. Tord jumpped in defence, shoving the robot deep into his pocket as he investigated the source of the sound... which appeared to be a hat. Well, he liked it. But why was it there? Should he really be questioning anything at this point? Nah, whatever. Just go with the flow as usual, he assumed. 

        Taking slow, cautious steps towards the hat, Tord began to take notice of the paint on the ground around the shape. It was a yellow and black alternating pattern he remembered but couldn't quite get his finger on. He felt like he should avoid the small boxed area, but everything in him was screaming "go for it." He picked up the hat and shifted his feet until he stood comfortablly inside of the box, shifting the heavy object back and forth in his hands. Man, who made this heavy ass thing? He didn't care, it looked cool. Oh, he should put it on! It'd mess up his hair but fuck it! The Norwegian smiled at his master plan to surprise his friends with it, and plopped it on his head. At last, he felt complete. You know what would go well with this hat? A gi-

        Well certianly not this huge ass red tube that just dropped from the fucking sky. Tord screamed and pushed at the glass in an attempt to escape, looking anywhere and everywhere he possibly could, he was going to die here! Why was it always him to get stuck in this stupid, fucked up situations! Just as he thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, the floor collapsed and he felt himself freefall a good 6 feet until he landed uncomfortably-and sideways- in a padded chair. Whatever he was now in, jerked from the weight of his body hitting it, Tord grasping onto a bar that was just above his head in attempt to find comfort, and once the swinging movement had relaxed, Tord could finally figure out what the fuck just happened.

        "Holy shit." 

        Tord held his breath as he looked at the control pannel that laid out infront of him, a series of buttons, switches and levers he couldn't even begin to think of what they did. Just when he thought that was all, he gazed out through the large window infront of him to see a sea of metal frames and incomplete machines before him. He had no idea all this had just been laying here under the house. As he looked closer he realized this all looked fimilar. He pushed his hands into his hoodie pockets as he sat up, wincing at the sharp stab to his hand. Now he remembered why these were fimilar, and he laughed as he pulled out the tiny red robot. Wow. Funny how life threw these kinds of things at him, wasn't it?

        Here he was. Tord Red, sitting in a giant metal head connected to the ceiling by only a few loose cables, holding a toy robot and laughing his ass off.

        He couldn't wait to get started.

-◇-

         "Patryck!" 

         He gasped, air filling his lungs as a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders tightly. He knew this voice, and he missed it dearly. "Paul?" The soldier felt himself smile, "am I dead or?"

         Paul pulled away and cupped his husband's face in his hands. "I hope you're not! They told me everything, how did you even pull that shit off, Pat?" Upon a closer inspection, Paul looked exausted. Dark wings rested just under his eyes, "I actually don't care. It means more that you are here and alive right now." He rested his forehead against Patryck's and together the couple closed their eyes to cherish the moment. "I missed you."

         "I missed you too." Dispite the medication he was somehow on, he felt a pain. This pain was the heartache of missing all that time with his husband, a joyful heartache now having Paul here with him. He thought deep down that he'd never see Paul again and began to accept that. He burried his face deep into the man's neck, letting each other melt into the other. This is how it all should have been, and how it should remain.

         Paul was the first to pull back, rechecking his husband's wounds. "Leader was... going to let you die. Some soldier named Orion something fought your case and nearly got killed for it." His hands were gentle as he carefully inspected a gunshot on Patryck's right upper arm. He didn't want to hurt Patryck anymore than he already was.

         "I know him. He's a good kid." Patryck would have to thank that soldier later if he'd ever see him again. "I'm guessing one of us got relocated again... huh?" I mean, Paul wouldn't be here if he wasn't. He couldn't complain since this is what he wanted, he handled his relocation to the front lines in a piss poor manner, and he can tell Paul handled his work just as bad too. Paul shrugged a little before nodding slowly. Again, he couldn't complain- he was excited to be with his husband again! He didn't want to be anywhere else. But... doesn't that mean Leader has more for him now? Great. Get him a god dammed bottle of bleach, thanks.

-◇-

         "So you're telling me he didn't begin?"

         "Yes and no, Master." He replied, pressing his back against the house siding as the two play from inside. "He didn't appear to read my notes. I'm sorry I... failed." He gripped his vest bracing for anything his Master threw at him. Stress and fear grew angry masses in his stomach.

         "That's because you're making them too long." Red Leader groaned. Red was angry with him now, but his master's voice was kinder and more forgiving than normal, "It's fine. It's only a minor set back, at least I think so. Start returning home, I have another task for you." Possibly another ambush or meeting, he was used to that by now. Red always kept his hands or body busy with something, and that was fine! He was happy, he has everything he needs to stay happy. "and... ah...?" He heard Red Leader typing away at something, maybe something dealing with the rebels again. Their recent stunt wasn't all too funny for the Red Army.

         "Yes, Master?" The change in tone peaked his interest.

         "I love you." Ah, such a dream.

         Tom sunk down onto the grass, cracked visor staring to an unfimilar bright blue sky. Unforgiving with its blinding light and loud squaking birds. "I," he paused, "I love you too." He looked back into the room at the young dancing version of himself. The younger Tord's hands wrapped around his waist and singing laughter. He smiled, feeling the same chilling warmth of his lover's arms. A husky voice that's sing to him what he did right or wrong, god he felt dullsional. A beep sounded the comm's closing, Tom rubbing at his face and itching at old scars. He should really get back before Red changed his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy an early update, Reader.
> 
> I hope you know I wish he was gone, Reader.
> 
>  
> 
> Have you taken the TSOP poll yet? No? Go check it out on Quotev! Pilot is user @.xPatryck and it's under published. Make sure to share your responces! Please have an account if possible.


	18. Locked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When somebody says no, you honor that.
> 
> This is why I left.

         He really didn't like sitting in hospital rooms. Something about the smell and aura reminded him of the years he was in a coma, all the times Paul or Patryck sat by his bedside waiting for him to wake up. He couldn't believe even after all that the first thing he did was leave them behind. Maybe somehow he could make up for it, but for now, he was stuck here with one arm around Tom and one seat between himself and Edd. God did he wish there were more than just that single seat between himself and his friend right now- he'd love an entire brick wall. He also didn't want to remember why they were here in the first place, it made him uncomfortable and uneasy. He thought all the tension had been left behind when ran away but clearly his roommates had other plans.

         Edd and Tom were fighting, again. Leaving Matt and Tord to sit and attempt to block it all out. Tord woulld be lying if he said he was listening, he was just watching Edd snap, pointing an accusing finger at Tom and speaking english too fast for Tord to understand. He stares off in that direction, tapping his fingers on the table and leaning his head lazily on his hand. He looked back at Matt every now and then, not really catching any interest until Matt winced. He was barely picking at his breakfast, body stiff and his lip sucked in. Tord watched as his throat began to tighten, eyes darting at the two arguing and back at the food infront of him. 

         "Hey Matt, are you goina eat that?" Tord tried to pick up a conversation, so he pointed out the bacon that Matt had yet to eat. Matt had only looked back at Tord for a moment before dropping his fork and caving in. Judging by this reaction, Tord guessed it was a no. 

         Now Matt was holding his head, barely breathing from some sort of pain. Tord had gifted him a water, but he wasn't drinking it as Tord had hoped. After a while of this Tord became concerned for his friend, this wasn't like Matt's usual behavior at all. "Matt?" Tord placed a hand on his friend's upper arm, watching with sarrow as Matt curled into himself, gasping loudly as he gripped his own chest. Tord jumpped back, Edd and Tom went dead quiet as Matt began gasping for air. "Matt! Breathe, Soldier!" Tord reacted with pushing the table back and trying to get Matt to uncurl himself, "slow down! Focus! Listen to me! Fæn-!" He wiped away Matt's tears with his wrist and held an iron grip on the purple man's shoulders, Edd standing still as Tom pushed past him to check on their purple friend. 

         Tord was, at first, happy to see Matt's gasping stop. But began to panic when he noticed now Matt couldn't breathe anymore. Tom placed a hand on Tord's shoulder and gripped, turning back to shout at the green friend "Don't just fucking stand there! Call for help!" Now was not the time to argue, Edd seemed to be thinking the same thing. He only gave Tom a look before reaching for the phone, casually patting down at the numbers until the tone began. 

         Tom hadn't been the strongest of the group, so he couldn't help as Matt suddenly collapsed. Hitting his head on the way down. Tord barely missed him, and now was left to watch as crimson began to pool the floor around Matt's head. "MATT!" He cried in panic, trying to wake his purple friend and set him up, pulling up at Matt's body with all the stregth he had. Edd had finished the call, swinging the phone in his hand carelessly as he watched the scene. "How can you be so fucking calm about this?" Tord felt himself snap at the man, "Matt is your friend!" Your. Why did he say yours? Why did it feel wrong to call Matt his friend?

         It was quiet between Tord and Edd, but Edd's eyes were wide in confusion. Conflicting feelings hitting him one after another as he placed the phone on the counter and finally searched out some bandages and began helping. Tord held Matt close, looking at the large gash on his head and listening to his slow breathing. He felt like this was his fault but he didn't understand how, he's sorry, please stop this. He just wants Matt safe and out of everyone on his planet Matt was the least deserving of this.

         "First off, you aren't supposed to move someone when they are injured." Edd sighed with a voice drenched in guilt, wrapping the bandage around the wond on Matt's head, "second of all if you remain calm with the operatior they can collect your information better." Edd looked between Tom and Tord as if he were a mother dealing with her children. "You'd know that if you took first aid." He taped down the bandage and sighed, making sure it fit in place until help finally arrived. 

         "Sorry some of us had band requirements." Tord heard Tom mummble, still holding Matt's hands. He did remember seeing someone who looked like Tom in the marching band but he never said anything. Tord for the time being didn't say anything to his boyfriend or about what he said, he just kept quiet and clinged tightly to the man in his arms.

         "You still should of called without being screamed at." He felt himself hiss protectively, arms tightening around Matt. 

         It had been one day since the accident and Matt was already doing better. Luckily the boys hadn't hurt him anymore, so that was the good news. The bad news was that his mental state was collapsing quickly. He was forgetting names and faces after a few minutes and the pressure in his head from stress was causing headaches. The boys were told Matt was more prone to panic attacks than the adverage person and that Matt should be kept away from conflict. Tord had hoped this meant Edd would stop being an asshole but clearly, his boyfriend and Edd had other plans. The trio literally carried the conflict on into the hospital. 

         "You know," Edd began, "this is Tom's fault."

         "Hey!" The blue one hissed, gripping down onto Tord's upper forarm defencively. "If you hadn't overstepped boundries with Tord and myself this would of never happened!" Tom was pointing fingers now too, and Tord didn't want to put up with two idiot men just arguing to argue. 

         "Guys, enough."

         "You know what, Tom?" Edd snapped, roboticly jerking his head in Tom's direction, "maybe if you--- h̵͉̿͝ų̵͐n̵̗͛͝g̸̠̓ ̶̈́ͅÿ̶̦́o̸̘̰͗ȗ̷̺r̴͉̰̓̓ş̴́e̶̲̍l̴̟̳͠f̸̖̾,̵̤̂ ̸̧̄̃t̷͖̄h̸̩̃ī̷͚̌ś̸̬͔ ̷̮̆͘w̵̛̪͝ȍ̴̳͉͆u̶̢̬̓l̸͚̻͆d̷̨n̸̻̈́͠'̴̠̀ṯ̶̈̊ ̵̟̈b̵͎́͝e̴͔̓ ̴̤͖̊a̶̭̿ ̵̻́̆p̸̝̤̽͝r̶̢̽o̶͖̒̈́b̶̫̂l̵̖͒̈́e̷̯̾̄m̶̧͓͠ ---- just took my advice we would of been happier!" He hadn't seen somebody natrually move so robotic, it made him feel sick to just watch. Something didn't settle right in Tord's stomach, something was going to happen and he didn't like it. He shifted his attention to Tom to hopefully reason with him but that too was in vain. He heard Tom growl, and flinched when the hands that gripped his arm suddenly became sharp. "Get. Out." 

         "FINE."

         The voice was unnatrual, and certainly not something Tord had ever heard from Tom's mouth. He didn't understand, he was scared and he felt like curling up into a corner and hiding away... he felt Tom release his arm, his worried silver eyes following Tom and the strange purple aura out of the room. "Fucking hell," he heard from Edd once the door had shut, "he can be such a pain when drunk. I guess it's... just the two of us! How are you, Tord?"

         I'm scared, "I'm fine." 

         "I didn't mean to scare you."

         "Unnskyld meg?" Tord was slightly frightened, gosh he had almost forgotten that Edd could see straight through anyone at any time, "Sorry, I just... you're making me, ah what's that word in english... uncomfortable." He raised his shoulders letting the fear rise more and more among his unforgiving demons. Faintly, he can hear a voice calling something. 

         "I am?" Edd tilted his head, blinking slowly like some... creature unknown. Tord felt like he was backed into his seat, feeling like easy prey. Get away. Get away get away GET AWAY DON'T TOUCH ME. "I'm sorry that it's coming off that way." He voice inside Tord's head was getting louder as Edd stood up and walked over. No no, don't come near me. STAY AWAY FROM ME. PLEASE. "I guess you're making me uncomfortable too. How come you use their gifts and not mine?" Please...

         Oh boy, Tord knew exactly what he was talking about. The collar. That pretty collar with his name on it. The one he shoved in a box and didn't wear. The one that Edd put his time into making. That one that would keep Tord feeling like a slave, forever. He choked on his words, eyes gazed down in his own lap in shame, feeling like a lost puppy.

         "Tord. How come you use THEIR things and not MINE." He didn't expect this, he watched as one of his friend's hands darted just past his head to grip the back of the seat and another to trap Tord's wrist to the armrest. "Do you hate me? Do. You. Hate. Me?" Each shake to the chair made Tord dizzier, this wasn't like Edd at all and he was terrified. Slowly the red norwegian was curling into himself, barely breathing and eyes wide afraid that this man would hurt him. Warm tears were sliding down his cheeks and sobs of regret and guilt for things that he knew nothing of began to surface. Deep down, Tord knew that he wasn't safe being alone with Edd. This was w-

         "Tord? You look pale." What? Tord shook his head, and suddenly Edd was back in his seat like nothing happened. Edd's eyes bright and full of concern and worry for his friend that he loved so dearly. "Do you want me to get the doctor?" He already had one friend limited to a hospital bed, having two would drive him mad if he wasn't already.

         "I'm..." He didn't know what to say, after what he just saw, everything was confusing. It was just a daydream, a terrible daydream and it wasn't real. Edd would never, ever hurt him. "I'll be okay, thanks." He pulled his hoodie strings tight, choosing to look anywhere other than Edd right now. "Edd? Be honest with me, what has been going on?" He still wasn't ready to directly look Edd in the eye, something- perhaps a voice from deep within was still telling him to run. To find Paul and Patryck and let them protect him again, that they were all he could and should trust in this fucked up paradise. Though they were long gone and he was sure he'd never see them again.

         He could hear Edd grit his teeth, a sharp breath following, "I can't tell you." 

         "Well, why the hell not?" Blood rushed and his head pounding from the daydream, "no one is stopping you. I need you to tell me, Edd." Something changed. This isn't what he was supposed to say, he wasn't supposed to plead to Edd, no Tord in his right mind would ever sink that low. Maybe that was just what Paradise is, the formation of a man not meant to be. He groaned in fustration, gripping at his hair and pulling so he wouldn't scream but at least he wasn't crying. He was now on his feet, pacing back and forth as be began to ramble. "I don't fucking understand, Edd! I came to you guys because I wanted to avoid tension and now I just ran myself back into it I jus-"

         "I love you." Edd had grabbed his arms and held Tord in place as he spoke. "I'm sorry," The grip Edd had on him wasn't too tight. "I should have said something sooner or this... this... this could have been avoided." He knew better than to think Tord would be expecting this because who would? He wanted to tell Tord this when the couple had broken up, but as all things happen in this story as long as Tord 'needed it' whatever it was will occur.

         It wasn't explained very well, but Tord accepted the information and let the pieces click into place. That's what Tom meant by Edd was stepping between them, that's why Edd was so upset these past few years... god, he felt... guilty. Edd did all these nice things for him and Tord repaid him by stabbing his heart. It wasn't intended, it really wasn't. Edd had let Tord into his house pratically rent free, hadn't expected or asked for much other than chores and his time, took care of him when he needed it, and even gave him all these wonderful colors to work with. Sighing, Tord let his hands raise and rest on to Edd's arms which still held tight onto his shoulders. 

         "I'm sorry," Edd grew stiff, moving a hand to lift his friend's chin, "this is my fault. You can blame me, okay?" This wasn't enough to restore the pain he caused for Tord, evident when Tord didn't reply other than look away from him.

         "Just... no. No." His hands pushed back at Edd's, wanting them off now. Tord had never been a touchy person, "let me go, Edd." The first squeeze to his shoulder he took as a friendly joke, "Edd," the second was beginning to piss him off. "Edd let me go." 

         "Why?"

         "Because I said no. Let me go." Edd was jealous and would grow past this eventually now that the truth was out. Well, at least Tord hoped that. "Edd I'm serious. I need to find Tom-" His body was jerked forward, his lips meeting with cold ones uncomfortablly. He reacted in fear, removing his hands and elbowing his friend as hard as he could in the chest. His friend coughed and relased, gripping onto his green hoodie at the spot Tord elbowed him, brown eyes glued to the floor.

         It was silent as Tord backed away to the door Tom had left out of, Edd's coughing turning to a bubbled laugh. "Ow! What the hell, man!"

         Seriously? This guy just won't take a hit. Was it bad Tord felt guilty? He'd never say that out loud, but he did. He shouldn't. He said no. Edd overstepped his boundries and now Tord was left feeling uncomfortable and unsafe, his sanity slowly dropping by the second like a straw house being blown by a wolf. He didn't look at Edd anymore, it would be for the best if Tord left him alone in that room and didn't speak to him again. Edd tried to reach out to him, and by then Tord had already begun to leave, bolting out the door and down the hall. Looking back would be a mistake, and the one thing he knew he couldn't do was return. Edd was dangerous. He needed somebody safe, anybody that wasn't Edd. The first person who came to mind was Tom but Tord was sure he wouldn't be back anytime soon.

         This brought back memories of the dance. His hand holding tight to Tom's wrist as he ran from leader. Fuck, this was just history repeating itself and he wouldn't fight it. He'd do the same thing he did before to preserve himself, even if hiding wasn't the only choice he had. Tord dodged eyesight of nurses and doctors and found a stray supply closet he could hide in. He couldn't see Edd or hear him yet deep down under his own flesh he could feel the man approaching. Panic settled and Tord forgot how to open a simple door, shaking as he fiddled the door open. He rushed inside, twirled around to place two hands against the door and shoved it against a fighting pressure on the other side. He made one swift effort to lock it, taking a few steps away with heavy breaths. He felt trapped in this little cage called life, and he thought like Rouge he could escape. He fell to the ground and began to cry seeing now that his life could never better. This whole world was just something that had sought out something against him, his only blue angel wasn't all he was cracked up to be.

         No. NO. I will not become a slave to this again, he thought, I only listen to me. His mind twisted around violent words and twisted emotions, saying "I don't care what it fucking takes." He pulled his head from above his knees, the hand gripping onto his head pulled and looked at his palms, a sick grin crossing his face. I am, Red Leader. Nobody, NOBODY, will EVER tell me what to fucking do ever again. I will be the leader the bastards of the earth need.

         No matter who or what stood in his way, Tord-No, Red Leader, would get to the other side of Paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch.


	19. Transiton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was my least favorite chapter to write. Basically, filler transition, also not as long as other chapters. QnA provided at the end.
> 
> and wow. An early update...

        He hadn't noticed the marks on his wrists until he ran. Bruises in the shape of hands... it had been real. All of it. Edd shaking the world around him and twisting the image of the friend he thought Edd was. Tord couldn't breathe, his hatred beginning to blossom deep within. He didn't understand what was going on with Edd or himself anymore, he didn't understand the world he lived in. Whoever you are, in front of these words hearing everything he thought or spoke, could you stop? Destroy paradise and set him free. He felt like he was dying over and over, day after day, memories he knew weren't right. I feel absolutely disgusting, he thought, I want to feel complete. 

        He'll do anything to feel complete again. You already know this 

        He had begun to punch at the walls, scratching and revolting in pure rage. What the hell was going on? Some sick gunk began to cover Tord's heart with violent images of his past. How much of it had been a nightmare, how much of it had been real? This was completely disgusting- he didn't deserve such an ugly paradise. God fucking dammit, how his hands were bloody. He didn't have to see his hands know it either, he could feel the warm liquid dripping down, and most likely staining whatever he had come in contact with. 

        "I can't fucking believe him!" Voice screaming as his first came in contact with the solid wall once more, "how long, how FUCKING LONG." He kept feeling gunshots go off in his head, following the alarms and screams of his own confusion. He hoped he was just being dramatic and that Edd didn't mean what he did. He wanted to see Edd as a good person. He wanted to think Edd was trustable. He scolded himself, hands gripping his own neck, "get it together, Tord. Don't fall apart, Tord. You're going fucking insane, Tord WELL FUCK YOU!" He said no. He shouldn't be kissing up to Edd, Tord knew he had the right to defend himself. "Great. Now I'm talking to myself. Fucking genius.." Nobody deserved to be forced upon, no matter what the situation.

        There was a knock at the door. All Tord knew was to growl in response, hoping for the worst. The knocking began again, steady and consistent. He twitched and growled at every other knock until he could bare the knocking no longer. The red Norwegian made haste, stomping as he finally swung open the door. "What! What the fu-..." But nobody was there. Tord felt a chill rush down his spine, followed by a blooming rage. He was sick and tired of this fucking bullshit paranoia that loomed like a dark fog. He took this as a sign that for now, it was time to try and find Tom. It may have been difficult but Tord managed to shove himself out the door to begin the search.

        "If I was a tiny blue drunk asshole where would I run off too..." He wiped the blood off his hands onto the red hoodie, the color blending enough to pass as his hoodie just being dirty. He looked at the cuts, bruises, and scratches that covered them before snatching a bandage to begin wrapping the wounds up. Damn. He began walking back in the direction of the waiting room as he saw a familiar blue. He approached, but as he finally got closer he noticed it wasn't exactly who he was looking for. "Jon?"

        "Tord?" He didn't recall ever talking to the neighbors. The fact Jon was able to say Tord's name before he had faced him was impressive. The small man turned and stared at Tord with wide eyes, "I-- I uh-! Oh, look! It's a dog wearing a dress!" Jon's hand swung in some random direction in pure panic, but it was random enough for Tord to fall for it. The strawberry blonde blinked twice and then looked back at Jon just to see the small guy had vanished. Seriously? What was with that guy? It's... not like Tord was going to kill him or anything. Well, he wouldn't be much help anyway, nor would Jon's friends since they all appeared to be deathly afraid of Tord. The complete reverse was with his... hey... if Jon went that way, and is the complete opposite of Tom...

        Seriously why didn't he think of these things sooner? He began to walk the other direction from Jon with a steady pace. He knew once Tom found a comfortable place, Tom would stay there for ages. There was nothing wrong with this, it was okay to seek seclusion from time to time. It was as if over time Tom had become more predictable and had been losing his spark of surprise.

        Just... the sight he had walked upon left him conflicted how to feel about Tom's 'predictability.' A half shifted beast, curled into a ball between bushes trying not to be seen- how could he of known this was Tom? Because nowhere else in the world would you find eyes like that. "Tom...?" Tord mumbled as walked closer, "what happened to you?" He didn't understand why this was all hitting him in one day. This felt like a sickening nightmare that would never end. "Come on... let's... get you home." He tried to shift the beast as gently as possible, but Tom wasn't having any of it. He wanted to be left there. "Tom, please it's me, Tord? You know me, you trust me, you love me." The beast relaxed, contorting back until the fragile form of the blue boyfriend had returned.

       "Tord?" Tom winced in pain, holding his head as the strawberry blonde stooped him up off his feet. "Bloody hell." A sigh escaped his sore throat, "how much did you see?"

       "Enough to demand an explanation?"

       "Fuck you." Obviously, if he was really complaining, Tom wouldn't be curled up into Tord chest like it was the last lifeline he had.

-◇-

        Having Patryck back was the best gift anyone could have given him. Paul could tell Patryck felt the same ever since he was released from the infirmary to active duty.

        "See! Teleporter!"

        "We're... in the same place as before."

        "Oh," Paul mumbled, lowering the device to stare blankly at the room they stood in. He was just simply showing Patryck the teleporter thing he found but turns out it wasn't a teleporter at all. Now he was even more fucking confused, how did a time machine get to the crash site and where did it come from? Exactly... who did it come from? "That explains a lot actually." So what he had seen of Tord and his friend Egg- fuck, Edd, not Egg- from before happened to be in the future? Or was it in the past? Oh dammit. 

        Patryck had been shuffling papers across a lone desk that sat in the room, finally sharing the information and year he found on the papers. Oddly enough, this room he knew. It was a remodeled version of the storage unit in the center of the base that had been surrounded by bush and weeds. Outside had appeared to be cleared out and paved out with patches of grass sweetly placed here and there. Now the room itself appeared to be an office, coated in the color red. Newspaper articles, treaties, contracts, agreements, and certificates lined the walls all leading to one large picture with a familiar silhouette in the center. One picture on the wall was distantly familiar, a glass v- "Patryck? Should we even be in here?"

        Patryck glanced at his lover, brown hair matted and still sweaty from his training earlier that morning. The icy blue of his eyes gave the message pretty clear that he didn't care all too much. Paul only held his breath as he continued to search the red office. Not like he didn't enjoy snooping and figuring out any small detail he possibly could. Patryck and himself were two in the same.

        Whoever worked in here really liked their cigars. He was just walking around when he spotted a single bucket just full of used cigars and a box of them sitting next to that ready to be used. Clearly, this fucker had some money, too. Whoever would Leader let this room go to? 

-◇-

       It had been a few weeks since Matt's panic attack and he was already showing signs... deterioration. He was forgetting objects he used to own or things he did moments ago. Seizures were common too, and Tord kept a good eye on those. Actually, Tord found himself assuming control over Matt's condition almost entirely. None of the other boys were complaining, well, actually none of them were really talking much at all. Tom and Tord would, every night actually. Still struggling to make it work. Edd had tried once or twice, but Tord would growl defensively or runoff. From what Tord knew, Tom happened to avoid Edd as well. The only person Edd really got to talk to was Matt, who was now under Tord's care.

       "Hey! Uh-"

       "Tord."

       "Tord! Haha, that's right! You're... Tord. T o r d." Matt was rolling the name on his tongue several times, hoping to remember at least something for next time. "Is something bothering you? You look like you could use a spa treatment!" 

       It was pleasing to hear one innocent voice for once. Tord reflected on this as he reapplied his lip balm, how that everything now was so horrifying compared to how it was before. His experience under Edd's roof wasn't like sunshine and rainbows as it seemed, it was mystery and fear. "I'm fine, Matt." He realized how much he actually liked the medical field or any medical work. It was interesting to learn about the human body in such a manner. "Matt, can I be honest with you?" Not like Matt would remember any of this night anyway, so fuck it, it was now or never.

       The ginger had tilted his head, grasping a sharp breath and then laying back once more. "Yeah?" The curious angel piped as his caretaker fiddled with his bandages once more to secure them in place. "You're not dying, are you?"

       "Ah, not exactly."

       "T..uh... Todd?" He had already forgotten. "hat's wrong?" 

       Nobody knew. Nobody but the unruly god that forced this life upon him. Tord was preparing to leave once progress on the robot was stable enough to function... while that would be some time from now, it would be a relief to finally tell somebody close. "Matt, I think it's time for me to go."

       Matt was already sitting up, at a complete disregard for his own pain and more of a worry for his friend, his lighthearted spirit was also dying. "Why?" He questioned in a whisper, "does Tom or Edd know?"

       "No... I..." he needed an excuse and fast. He felt Matt's arms begin to wrap around his shoulders to squeeze as a mother would. "I don't feel safe here anymore." This was only the beginning of his lies.

 

 

 

 

HEY GUYS, ITS PILOT, AND MAN I HATED THIS CHAPTER  
basically, the whole point was to finally discover hey it wasn't a teleporter, Paul is just an idiot  
and that Tord is fully turning to lies and false stories as a solution to his stupid problems  
I won't tag anyone directly for privacy reasons.

 

ANYWAY! Here is the QnA/Ask Response  
I'm pulling these from different places(comments... polls.. ext..) and may add on later.

 

"What is the plot?"  
The bigger question is... what is the allegory?  
This story is written around symbols

"Why is Edd like this?"  
He told you why. He fell down a ditch and cracked his skull. Poor boy.

"When is the update?"  
Congrats, you're reading it  
I usually update on Fridays

"Change-"  
Nope. You don't run TSOP. The entire story has been written out. You're not changing a damn thing, sorry.

"Why will Tom and Tord's relationship be rough?"  
Because that's what you wanted. The curse that looms here is the sick desires of- ... nevermind.

"Are you actually leaving?"  
No

"What did Edd do?"  
What DIDN'T Edd do? Honestly... he's directly hurt everyone at this point

"What goes through your damn head with these decisions? Do you see yourself as a superior over everyone else, or?"  
http://aminoapps.com/p/erglbh ← Full sketched response.  
'You see, if nobody else matters, there is no one to be superior over. But, I am pretty great. Aren't I?'

"What's the obsession with Tord?"  
http://aminoapps.com/p/928ph9d

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> Until next time!


	20. Needles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord isn't a coffee kind of guy. He's more the... uh... trigger addict.

       The past week had actually been rather fun for Tord and the other boys. Actually a few weeks ago, they had jokingly joined the British army for a while to goof off and managed to destroy a very... familiar base. Tord was too busy having fun to actually pay attention to what was going on. They were kicked out ultimately because of their lack of attention to detail which... Tord could entirely reason with. Tord also had begun smoking because hey if it was near this red idiot would get his hands on it. They didn't appear to take to him stealing cigarettes and eventually cigars off others... not his fault people leave them so exposed. Maybe this was a nasty habit from Pa... more recently, the progress with his robot had also been going quite well. He was nearing completion, and once that day came, Tord could finally leave.

       He'd been working on the giant robot for 16 hours straight. He hasn't eaten, he hasn't slept, he hasn't even gone to the fucking bathroom. For any human being, this could drive them insane unless some true motive laid under the surface. For Tord, finishing this damn robot was all he could think of so that he could finally escape Edd. He could have left whenever he pleased but the joy this one single robot gave him was something else. "GAH!" He snapped out of his thoughts as a panel shocked him. His first instinct was to place his finger against his tongue, the sourced skin feeling numb and short tingles running up his arm. Oh god nope fuck- he threw up. He grabbed the nearest trashcan and heaved, stomach acid burning at his throat in all its disgusting glory. He must have forgotten and left the power on yet again, all he needed to do was to turn it off and he could continue. 

       He was rather silent as his fingers danced over the panel's power switch, the beautiful illumination fading as the source was stripped away. He glanced back over at his blueprints and checklists only to be amused at his own progress. With all the red ticks, it was easy to accidentally look over anything he had accidentally missed or passed over. It was just so... beautiful. He remembered when the head was just hung from several wires, now it was partially functional and resting on top of the torso. The arms weren't attached but would be whenever he was ready to turn it all on. He didn't want to permanently install them because he wanted them to be detachable at any moment. So far, he assumed he was doing a good job. He hadn't had any time to test run, and wouldn't ever have the chance to do so. He had one shot to make sure this all worked. 

       As he worked on the applications and stored memory, his phone began to buzz softly. It was about that time Matt would need his medications so it was most likely just his alarm. He grabbed a towel and wiped off his hands, removing the rubber bracelet he had and picked up his phone to view 9 missed calls and 1 unread text. Most of the calls were Edd, unsurprisingly. Tord never responded to anything the man did since the accident at the hospital. The one single text was from Tom, which had just been sent following a missed call from him too.

       'Hey. Were are you.'

       'busy'

       'Busy doing what? Jacking off to hentai? I was going to ask if you wanted to go to dinner...'

       While that was fun, that wasn't quite exactly what he was doing. He looked over his checklist and his time remaining. He wasn't going to finish it in time, the robot's defenses were still so weak but this could possibly give him a chance to bribe Tom into letting him finally study that monster form of his...

       'be there in 10'

       'Cool. Just bring you and your hoodie this time. No firearms.'

       Tord snickered and pushed the phone deep into his pocket, it was almost if Tom knew him well enough to even say something as such. He did remember a time when the boys went out for paintball and Tord thought it would be funny to use real guns. Hey, watching those people run when he was aiming to barely miss them was hilarious. He wasn't planning to kill anybody just to have a little fun. That's what Patryck taught him. If you're going to be forced to hold a weapon, you ought as well to be good enough to have some fun. Patryck taught Tord to be a sharpshooter with almost any type of gun so that Tord could simply scare someone rather than just simply kill them. In the end, it wouldn't be too useful. At least he knew fatal places to shoot if he needed to defend himself from you know who.

       "Keep your stance firm, and make sure you're holding it just how I taught you, Tord. It has a really bad knockback." The whispers of memories flooded him leaving warm tingles on his skin. "You can do it, Tord. I believe in you, okay?" He could remember the feeling of Patryck releasing his shoulders and his gaze on his beloved son rather than the target. To Patryck, Tord hitting the target meant less than Tord being safe. Out of everyone he ever met, his parents truly cared for him. How disgusting honestly, the feats they strived for was always in vain considering Tord wasn't even their own blood born son. He was somebody else's stay... he was a stay of parents he barely remembered.

       As he locked up to get ready the date he had tonight, the memory played like a faded record. "Dad I don't think I can do this." Tord had hesitated, body falling loose and began to move away. Patryck placed to firm hands on him and set him back in place, confidence written in his bright blue eyes. He felt the knockback of the gun forcing him back into Patryck's grasp. 

       Patryck ran a hand through his hair with a hum, "and you said you couldn't do it." Pointing at the target where Tord aced his shot.

       He missed Patryck a considerable amount, it just wasn't the same without his constant watch. Paul too, he missed the smell of the cigarettes that would basically drop from the man like flies. His odd envy of his son's talents motivated Tord to make him jealous more and more each day. Impressing his parents and making them proud meant something, even if that something was very little it was the only thing in his childhood that kept him going. He hummed to these thoughts as the doors shut behind him, his phone buzzing again with a message from Tom popping up. He already knew what it was about so he just skipped over it and left his room.

       The hallway felt offly chillier than usual. That sometimes meant... oh. He looked to his left to see Edd's room door wide open, the green man sitting on the carpet curled into a ball with Ringo at his feet. She was purring desperately trying to pull any attention she possibly could out of Edd. Tord didn't have to look to feel Edd's eyes on him. It was enough to spook Tord into dashing down to Matt's room. There were much more important things in life than dwelling on whatever was going on with Edd anyway.

       He didn't have to walk into Matt's room to see the note written on- HEY! He knew this fucking cardstock and handwriting from anywhere! This had to be one huge fucking joke. Tord snatched the cardstock from the door and shoved it deep into his pocket, knowing that the others he had received were in his car. This irked him, was Tom the person behind his notes? That didn't make any sense, too many conflicting variables. But he knew those notes were in Tom's handwriting. He knew this cardstock was the same the note writer used. It was all the same. Gah! "Fucking prick." His feelings for his boyfriend were beginning to become tainted as Tom became an even more odd picture to paint.

       Tom was waiting outside. Tord shouldn't keep him waiting too long, curse Tord for wanting to be some sort of gentleman and try to not waste too much time- blame Patryck and Paul for that. Saps. All of them. All fucking saps. Tord gritted his teeth and began his trip outside, barely glancing over at Edd's room to see Edd standing with Ringo in his arms. Tord didn't watch very long as now he was already out of the hall and almost out of the front door. Nobody needed this much damn stress, it could kill somebody. Luckily for life, it just so happened that Tord was a strong-willed person. He wouldn't be quitting anytime soon. 

       "There you are Asshole." Tom's voice snorted, "took you long enough! Come on I'm starving." Ah, as usual. Tord rolled his eyes, avoiding eye contact as he shut the front door to walk over to his car and Tom. Spinning his keys along with his soft humming. He was with Tom, not Edd. He could... lower his defensive walls. 

       Oh yeah, he remembered why that was a terrible idea. No, he won't do that ever again. It doesn't matter who. Tord didn't want to be hurt anymore, he didn't want to fucking suffer in some sick paradise. His life was shit and it's their fault, not his. He did nothing wrong, right? Sure, he had already murdered half a thousand people, but he only did it... uh... because Leader made him. Right, Leader did! Sick bastard, Tord was sick and fucking tired of the memories he brought. The Norwegian plopped into the front seat of his car, clicking in the key and twisting several times until the engine whirred to life. He sat back, caring less about his seatbelt and more about when Tom was finally going to get in. "Are you coming?" 

       Tom was silent, strain hidden behind voided eyes as he sat down, "are you okay?" He sounded concerned and confused. "Is it me-"

       "No." Blunt, but necessary. Something didn't seem right about this. "I'm just really tired." He lied again but god damn at this point he couldn't stop himself. Once you begin, it's hard to stop. It felt so... sweet. "What's the address, Love?" He tried forcing a soft smile, feeling it dig deep down in his core and the dread only increased more. He watched as Tom's mouth moved on and pulled up the GPS rather than the map this time. Honestly, Tord preferred that over a map anyway.

       While the drive was short, the arrival was unexpected. Across the street apparently, there had been an accident and EMS crowded the shopping complex so for the time being, the couple would be stuck together for some time. "Seems like they are having fun. I wish I could be that drunk." Bold of Tom to assume but honestly, Tord couldn't blame him. 

       He began making his way out of the car, snickering at the other, "you just wish you'd get piss drunk no matter where you are." He reached into the glovebox to grab his wallet just in case. "That's just you."

       "Damn," Tom harked with laughter, "how did you know me so well?" arms leaning on the top of the car as Tord got himself situated. Tord would be lying if this made him feel slightly better, but now he was unsure why. This didn't feel like... love to him. Every time he saw Tom none of it felt the exact same as it used to. It felt more like a damn drug, something Tord was addicted to and needed to survive. 

       He briskly walked to the trunk of the car and waited until Tom took a hold of his hand and practically dragged the Norwegian inside to a world where savory scents were unforgiving on his nose. He felt himself scrunch up, and grunt in annoyance. "Tom! Good to see you!" Shouted one of the workers, "the usual?" 

       "Sure!"

       Tord didn't know the person, other than her nametag read Aurora and she had very long, platinum blonde hair that fell down to her waist. "Oh, this must be Tord! What can I get you?" Was this a fucking coffee shop? Tord wasn't much for hot drinks, but sure. He had been working for a while, so fuck it. He waited until the woman wrote down Tom's order then requested just a normal hot cocoa. He never really was much of a coffee person anyway, so he left once Tom stepped up to pay. Eh, fine by him anyway. He wandered around the small establishment until he found a seat he was comfortable enough to curl into for the time being. He pushed his back into the fabric of the seat and stretched back, loving the tight pull of the weaker muscles on his back. 

       "You act like such a cat." Tom hissed in an embarrassed manner, sneering as he placed napkins on the middle of the table.

       He couldn't resist, "That would make you straight then." A sheepish grin crept onto his cheeks from Tom's reaction. He slightly screamed when whip cream was flicked at him in a dramatic manner. 

       "Oh shut the fuck up, Tord." Tom placed the two drinks down as he spoke, Tord scooping up a bit of his own whip to flick it back at Tom's nose. "Oh. So, we're doing this now are we?" Tom wiped it off his nose with a napkin and grabbed for a spoon, "alright then, Commie."   

-◇-

       Honestly, the date went well. It just happened that Tord wasn't feeling like himself anymore. He wasn't even sure if he liked his relationship anymore if it was doomed to make him feel so distant forever. But, good news. Tom finally let him experiment with the monster form. It there really wasn't much to learn other than most of the time it was a reaction to anxiety or nerve triggers. It was a beautiful defense mechanism, Tom could he jumped from any angle and he could defend himself or more. But now that taught Tord to be careful, and that if he didn't watch himself he could seriously get hurt. "I still can't believe you have a secret lab in your room." 

       Yeah, Tord couldn't either. "Mhm. Sorry, it's a mess." While his room was usually clean, it was due to the fact Tord basically lived in the lab. The old desk he used to use for projects was covered in dust. "This is all there is anyway." He didn't need Tom knowing about the robot just yet. Nobody needed to know besides himself and the unjust god that controlled his life. He nearly dropped the needle in his hands from lack of concentration. 

       "Eh, not any messier than Matt's room- OW!" Tom jerked away, Tord accidentally pricking a nerve. "You said you'd stop poking me with needles, you dick!" 

       "Oh hush, you're fine. I need the tiniest blood sample anyway." He hummed, taking a strip he had made a moment ago to absorb some of the blood from the mark he made. "You didn't shift this time. Do you become exhausted from it? Or exhaust something?" Fingers pressed a band-aid onto the spot where he pricked his boyfriend, rubbing over it to make sure it was secure. 

       Tom's response wasn't much aid, he opened his mouth to speak but then promptly closed it, and opened it once more after a few seconds. "Yes...? No? I think it's just that it's hard to be mad at you directly."

       Tord didn't understand, he looked up at Tom with his silver eyes filled with confusion. "Hva?" He released he was squeezing his tools too tight, so he released the tools in order to prevent himself from breaking them in the dull silence that continued. 

       If voided eyes could say anything, Tom's would be hesitant. "All the other times I was trying to picture you as somebody else, because every time I think of you, I shift back. I... can't imagine hurting you."

       Wow... that's... "That's really fucking cheesy and sappy. Is that your way of saying you love me?"

       "Oh shut the fuck up!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She didn't even notice she didn't update.
> 
> Lucky you, here it is.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> QUESTION:,  
> should there be a tumblr page for this AU?


	21. Goodbye Never Felt Like This Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this it? Is it over? Why can't I breathe? Why can't I see anymore!

       Yeah, Leader was going to have everybody's heads. Sure that wasn't all that favorable to listen to the old hag rasp all day about how it was disappointing for them to let a couple of enemies in, steal a tank, and destroy basically the entire god damn base... see... Paul would be complaining if he wasn't celebrating the fact it had killed Adam. Finally, the witch was dead. Or was that too morbid? Seriously the damn kid annoyed him for years even up until he finally died. Paul could care less as long as it wasn't Patryck or Tord who got hurt and guess what? Patryck wasn't hurt and as far as he knows, Tord is long gone somewhere safe(hopefully somewhere safe, at least). He also didn't have to wear the new and uglier blue uniforms that leader finally swapped to. 

       Luckily for Leader, it wasn't his only base and the reconstruction began quickly, it had only been few weeks since cleaning began and the soldiers were running out of the filler tasks. Like clearing rubble or scavaging for former supplies, which was exactly what this couple was doing. As Patryck plucked up rocks and moved them aside, Paul kept an eye out for anything. Just like he had in the plane crash except now he wasn't injured, you know life sucks when you're stranded like he was then. At least one good thing came from all that, and his name was Tord.

       "I heard rumors about that tank... people say he was there." Patryck broke the silence between them, his words wheezed out after heaving yet another rock. "Do you think... Tord was in there..? People said they heard his voice." He stretched his arms trying rubbing the burning sensation out of them. He had hoped that Paul would share his hope that his son had been nearby. That yet he was gone, he was making a better life for himself somewhere they could find him.

       Paul wanted to say that Tord knew better than to risk that, but he really couldn't vouch for Tord like that anymore. "I don't know. Why would Tord join the British army?" He, like Patryck, had hoped Tord would have picked a safer career route that kept him out of the line of fire. Guess you can't keep a trigger-happy boy too far from any thriller action, it would and will always live on as a parasite in his blood. "You'd think he knew better." They were terrible parents.

       Patryck didn't like his husband's doubt, he wanted his family close. He wanted to run away with Tord and not just let the boy go. God dammit he felt weak, but that's life. "I don't know, why did you join the army?" Good question that Paul had no answer to. "Let me have my hope."

       "Hope of what? Him being close enough for Leader to find or? At this point, Tord is begging for a bullet in his head" Oh no. He should have kept his mouth shut. He was left in pain as his husband's gaze turned sharp and hostile until soft tears dripped from porcelain cheeks. "Shit- shit no Patryck don't cry. Baby, I'm sorry I didn't mean to. I know Tord meant a lot to you-" He was becoming afraid to speak more. 

       "Just get the fuck out!" 

       He wasn't in any place to tell Patryck no, so he stood up, and walked out. Nope. He wasn't going to bother to reason with a man who blew up into a fit for no reasonable point. Seriously, sure Paul cared for the boy but he hadn't grown nearly as attached as Patryck had been. He used to see Patryck as this... maternal type man. He had what Paul had thought compassion, but underneath was truly self-preservation. Patryck was defensive of what made him Patryck Red. Tord and Paul made Patryck feel like a true human, without them he was a shell of what could have been a man.

       He felt partially responsible for Patryck's collapse. If he never stepped into his life in the first place- dod dammit, Patryck had to be the one person who turned his world upside down. The one person. "Paul!" Man, what if he was able to fix everything, something, just something. Please, unruly god-that-he didn't-actually-believe-in-just-for-the-sake-of-Patryck ow ow ow don't vomit again- fuck. He vomited, straight into a pile of rubble. Hopefully, nobody saw that "oh god dude gross! Are you okay? It's all that smoking, isn't it?" Fucky fucked fuck. Paul rubbed his forehead and wiped off his mouth with a handkerchief.

       "Almost sounds like I don't care." 

       "Come on, dude, at least I know what will!" The division mate rolled his eyes, brushing the dust from his blue uniform as he pointed to a red flash from the horizon. "I thought that would make you care."

-◇-

       Tom had awoken to the most horrific sight. The day none of them expected to officially arrive. As he pulled on his hoodie and left his room, he had noticed a small number of boxes had been collected in the hallway outside of Tord's room that was just enough to fit into his car. It was happening, his worst nightmare. Again, Tord was leaving him. He desperately ran around until he caught sight of his boyfriend in hopes to change his mind. He found Edd and Matt in the living room with no sign of that Red hoodie anywhere. "Where is Tord." He his tongue hissed the name in agony, Matt, looking over as if he yet again forgot who Tord even was and Edd only hugged himself tighter.

       Tom could mildly hear Edd whispering, "they didn't stop him," but this information was useless. He needed to find Tord to change the man's mind. "He's outside, dammit! He won't let me fucking talk to him, he hasn't spoken to me in weeks." He was used to Edd's dickish behavior by now, so he brushed it off and began to run outside into the bitter cold to find Tord as quickly as possible. The sounds of glass breaking followed, but it had some from the living room followed by... fuzz. Whatever it was, he couldn't hear it but it seemed like a voice. "Ǘ̷̮̙g̴͚̐ḧ̶̤́!̸̻̰̒͒ ̷̪͆̀" It revolted and echoed, "Ť̴̪h̸̠͂ḯ̸̹͝s̵̭͋͌ ̴̦̤̉i̶͔̓̽s̶͍͓̎̓ ̶̣̅ǎ̷͓ľ̴̢̠l̴̛̙ ̵̫́̈́y̷̤͌́͜o̶͔̘͂̎u̶̮͈͆r̷̫̋ ̶̖͎̐͆f̴̩̟̌̄â̵̜u̸̼̿l̸̙͆ť̵̖͍͛,̶̻͐ ̷̪͚̽R̶͔̀̄e̷̟̐͂ä̸̢̻̅d̵̩̀͗e̸̘͉͗r̷͓͑̓.̵̻͊̂ ̷̖͐Y̵̭̊̽o̶̡͗̾ú̶͓͘ ̷̦̙̓̀d̷͎̼̎į̴̩̚d̶̢̆̉n̸̗̍'̴̩̺̈́̒t̷̡̼̉̓ ̸̮̂s̶̢̞͝t̵͕͒̒o̵̹̐p̶̹̳̀ ̷̧͇̊̕h̶̤͇͂̈ị̷̐́ḿ̸͚̹!̴̰̞̾̃ ̸͚̹̇͠Y̶͍̻͒o̸̪̿͐ủ̴̠̮ ̷̱̀̋j̵̝̔ư̷̙š̵͕t̵̢̰̐ ̶̘̑͜h̶̳̄a̸̻̪̾ḍ̷̗̓͘ ̸̙̰̓̔t̵̥͓̒o̵͓ ̸̼̆l̶̰ẽ̷͈̬̋t̸̮͕͑ ̴̳͘͠h̷͈̉̇i̵͇̍̀m̶̝͔͂͑ ̴̗̹̈́s̷͉̼͠l̵̝̤̈͠i̷̙̱̓͆p̸͎̅ ̷̿̔͜ḁ̷̦̑w̴̧̓ͅą̴̲ẏ̷̜̺̒ ̸̪̃f̷̖r̵̥͂̆ọ̶̢͒m̸͎͋̕ ̸̛̖͐m̸̛̥̀e̸̥͛.̸͙̂͝" When the fuzz finally ended, it sounded like Edd had been crying. That was strange because out of all the years Tom knew Edd he had hardly cried. Edd was crying for the same reason Tom has currently wanted to. All because Tord was leaving. Leaving home, leaving him.

       "Tord-!" He called as he ran outside, right smack into Tord's chest. "Tord!" He panicked, grabbing his lover's shoulders to gently shake him. "What the hell are you doing?"

       At first, Tord only growled and tried to push past him to grab the remainder of his things. The longer he stayed outside, the more the cold seeped through his red hoodie. The only thing keeping him warm was the single cigar that had bee partially smoked by now. "Leaving," his husked voice finally gave Tom what he wanted, but it wasn't enough to please him. "I found other opportunities in... the city." 

       It was exactly what Tom feared. His boyfriend was leaving him. Again, "seriously?" Tord stared into the voided eyes in silence, prepared for this scolding. "I poured my life into you, asshole! Is this your way of saying 'fuck you?'" He made quotations with his hands, snatching the cigar, slightly burning himself with it and then stomping it out. "I'm not finding this very fucking funny!" 

       The cigar's smoke still risen from the sheer cold, but the small clouds looking like smoke still escaped them every once in a while. Why was it that humans grow so attached? What's the point? Most will leave in the end anyway, you're not stopping anything. Tord felt himself slouch and grumble, finally pushing past Tom with a shove. "Get out of my way," the threat pierced the blue bird like a spear, "I'm leaving."

       The fuzz and void appeared again, gouping like a thick black tar over his body. S̷̼̤̗̲̰̹͑̔̆́͘͝ë̸̜̟̟́̑e̶̮̩͂̍?̵̣̤͓͌̔͜ ̴̧̡̢̪͘Ĥ̵̢̻ë̵̪̯̺̬̗́̄ ̵͙̪͑͠ͅn̴̪̐̈́̊͘ḛ̴̮̻̃̐̐v̶̮̈e̴̛̻͉͗͜r̸̛̲̃̕͝ ̴̬̞̮̈͆̊̑͐̚c̴̩͚̜̳̰̍̏͛ą̴͓̞͚̩̜̆͛̔͝r̷͇̻͋̌̚e̵̖̿̚d̶͚̥̗̞̯͊̄̅̏́͠.̴̪͈̰͉̀̽̇̅̿͒ It sang happily, h̵͎͒è̷͇ ̸͙̑n̷̹͊e̶̗͛v̴̗̽e̴̫͒r̵͎̓ ̷̠͑l̸͇̒o̸͖v̷͓͌e̶̝̓d̴͚͑ ̸̗̚y̵͇̅o̶̹̓u̴̳.̵͙͠ No. No, he didn't love me, this entire time he played me for a fool. Is this all he was? Tom felt himself crumble inside as he watched Tord move his things, mumbling words Tom couldn't understand in Norwegian. He was absolutely nothing to Tord but a useless fucktoy. That's what he felt like. Worthless. His entire body felt like liquid, and all he could hear was static. Ģ̵̎͊̆̊̀̊o̸̘͈͍̳͑̈́ơ̶̡̛̼͕̜͋ḑ̸͗̆̔́ ̴̜̼̞̫͈̻̐̔b̴͈̔͒̾͝o̷̙̪͔̫͉͚̿͊̃y̴̙̥̒̍,̵̢̜͍͇̤̩̓ ̸̖̰̿͛̈́̀͑n̵̢̼̗̗̋̔ȍ̴̭̲̠w̵̨̰̬͓͕̃̓͗̋̌͜ ̷̡̀͑͑́́y̸̨͚̏́o̶̡̥̝͈͓͋̅ư̴̘̳'̴̰̝̋̎͆̓͘r̴̍̊̅̋͊͘͜ę̸̼̦̗͕͖̈́ ̷͈͕͎̘͔̜͊ģ̶͉̠͑̓͌̾ͅe̶̥͗̓̍̃͝ṫ̴̯͉t̵͇̻̃̕͘ͅȋ̸̱̜̙̙̝͆n̶̜͉͙̭̓́̊̐̐g̷̛̯̤͂̌́͛͐ͅ ̶̡̥̟̝͈͐̆í̵̳̇̚t̴͕̯̦̮̿̑͋͌.̷̨͙̽̽

       A warm hand gripped around the closest thing to him, and as the red Norwegian made eye contact again Tom whacked him directly in the face, leaving a nasty scratch on his left eyelid. "What the fuck, Tom!" He screamed, holding a hand up to the cut that would surely scar. "Seriously, Witness!"

       "Tell your next boyfriend how you got that fucking scar," Tom realized he had hit Tord with a small hand-held shovel, "I'm sure he'll be glad to know you owned a fucking cat!" The blue man threw the shovel at Tord's car, the metal end cracking the passenger side window. "I hope he ends up hating you as much as I fucking do!" With that, he watched green arms pull him back, Matt placing a hand on Tord's shoulder so the commie wouldn't try and fight back.

       It was silent the remainder of the time. Edd, Matt, and Tom stood and watched Tord finish loading the last of his things in a disoriented manner, completely due to his eye. It stung like a motherfucker, and on more levels than just physical. He never felt this much hatred towards his once again ex, how dare he raise a hand against h I m. Does Tom even have a single clue who he is and is to become? Oh, Tom will find out, if it's the last thing Tord does before he dies. 

       Their busy chatter wasn't enough to keep him focused on his friends, rather it motivated him to keep moving, once he finished, he felt the need to rub salt into the wound, "Well," he husked, "time for me to go." He could feel Tom's distasteful glare on his neck, and you know what? It felt good. It felt good to be hated and to hate somebody. 

"We'll never forget you, Tord!" The cheery one shouted in delight, "you or your memory eraser gun!" What? Tord didn't own one of those. Or did he? He invented so much for that damn robot that everything he made became a blur. "Ah, so many memories."

       "I can't believe Tord is leaving." He could faintly hear Edd say. Oh. Oh, fuck you.

       Fuzz. Nobody said anything. Nothing. Like they weren't who they were supposed to be. This isn't what they were supposed to be doing. What was he supposed to say? He felt like he was reading from a script, "Yes, Edd," He flashed a dim smile as Matt and Tom wrestled in the background, "I have to follow my dream, and make it in the big city!" At least it was a believable lie, right? It wasn't too extreme. Plus, it'd surely boil Tom's blood the more he rubbed it in.

       "Fine by me!" 

       Or he could continue to be a damn asshole. That's fair. He could hear Matt say something but he was more focused on the blue asshole more than anything else. He glanced over as Tom snatched the gun from Matt and tossed it in the back of Tord's car, stepping back to promptly cross his arms. Nope, he wasn't going to give into that. He would never be the first to crumble. He took a deep breath and began walking to the trunk to close it, not an inch of guilt under his skin yet he knew he had to keep faking it for just a tad bit longer, he could manage that right? What was it he said when he first came here... ah... that's right. "Goodbye, old friends!" He shut the trunk, running a hand among the chilled metal frame of his car.

       "I'm n o t your friend." Tord wouldn't want to be friends with himself either, well, at least at this point he didn't. To refrain from acting brash, Tord didn't speak anymore. But he did something any other version of himself wouldn't of. He stopped right at the car door and pulled off the Red hoodie. He didn't want... this following him anymore. This hoodie followed him ever since he was found by Paul and Patryck. It was now time to move on, and be who he wanted to be. He glanced back at the four boys, golden eyes looking at them with such smugness. He felt free. Finally.

       He hopped into his trusty car, tossing the old red hoodie behind him on the grass and locked the doors around him. It was gone. He was free. This was it. It's finally fucking over. It's his choice now, from here on out. 

       Luckily for you, Reader, Tord had some massive plans for his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye, Tord.  
> We'll miss you.
> 
>  
> 
> I love you.


	22. 28 Bullet Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long live the king.

           Paul followed his coworker to the front where a crowd of curious soldiers was beginning to gather, watching as the cherry red blur skid to a sudden stop. No... it couldn't be. The car was dirty, dents and scratches, passenger side window cracked and TR + TB written in a violently scratched out heart on the rear end. Inside was too hard to see due to tinted windows, but the plates were terrifying. N0R5K1. Oh god. He was going to vomit again. At least something listened to his prayer though, right? 

           Tord stepped out of his red car, his dull eyes gazing over the crowd with an emotionless husk surrounding him and his expression. His red hoodie was gone, just a deep blue coat with an extremely fluffy hood. Paul was left in the same awe and amazement as the other soldiers, unable to do anything as Tord hopped up onto the roof of his car, and with a booming voice, spoke to the crowd.

           "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?" Tord's voice echoed for what seemed like miles through a hushed crowd, "SOME OLD, RAGGED MAN, BOSSING YOU AND TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO? HAS HE EVER ONCE IN HIS LIFE BEEN THE COMMON MAN?" Paul could feel his heart racing and fall in sync with the other soldiers around him. "I, THINK NOT," Tord boomed with his chin held high and fist to the sky, "FIGHT WITH ME. RESIST AND JOIN ME AGAINST THIS RAGGED OLD HAG, AND I'LL SHOW YOU A TRUE LEADER." The soldiers already knew his name, his face, and his story. "BRING HIM TO ME, AND WE'LL SPILL HIS BLOOD," the crowd began to close in and the suspense around Paul increased as Tord's voice grew louder and louder, "TOGETHER!" Within moments, the crowd was shouting. They didn't care who their new leader would be, they wanted Leader dead. It really did not take Tord that long to convince them to fight for him either. The Norwegian man grinned a sick, twisted grin. Tord had promised their freedom from that greedy man. The Norwegian threw his arms out, his radiance shining across them all. No, they knew who they wanted. They wanted a man who had worked just like them; they wanted Tord. They wanted everything he provided them.

           This is what they wanted, they wanted that old hag dead. He found himself walking closer to Tord until he was inside the open circle surrounding Tord. "Tord-?" Concern laced into his tongue. 

           "Ah," he turned, a scar dawned on his right eye, "You. How delightful! Have you come to join us?" Not like Paul had much of a choice, "where is Patryck?" That's new, Tord never called them by their first names before. But times... change... and people change too. Before Paul could speak a single mind, Tord already cut him off. "Daw nevermind, no problem! He'll be at out here eventually, ja?" Tord turned back around to the cheering crowd, a sick grin plastered onto his face. Paul felt the dawning sickness again, his eyes staring up at Tord in confusion. Oh god, save him. Save Tord. Save Patryck. Save Paul. Save. Save save save. Reset and save, please.

           He stepped away, letting his hands release from the car and back into the crowd, he needed to find Patryck immediately. Why did he feel surprised? Or was this disappointment directed at Tord? "PAT!" He was running, shoving people aside until he was able to squeeze out of the crowd to a clearing. Fuck, so many sounds, he needed a smoke. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and lighter, fuck fuck fuck- he kept shaking until the warm smoke filled him, forcing a husky cough out of his mouth. He remembered leaving Patryck behind in one of the ruined rooms, maybe he was still there. Retrace your steps, and you'd find him. Faces past, rude people scoffing at him occasionally as he forced his way past them. 

           He looked back at his son, Tord barely visible at this point. People throwing up their fists and cheering until he could see Tord silence them with a gunshot to the sky. Even being so far away, he could still hear Tord's voice boom but he was done listening at least for now. The voice grew more and more distant as he entered the rubble where soldiers were either didn't care for whatever was going on outside or soldiers who were leaving to check it out. He would have been one of those who didn't care if he wasn't already outside. "Pat?" He repeated the name several times as he wandered the halls, kicking up dust and rubble as he went. 

           "Are you saying I'm being dramatic?" Patryck's voice was aggressive, was he talking to someone?

           "I'm just suggesting that you're... not being reasonable." A heavy Spanish accent replied.

           "Yeah! You are calling me dramatic!"

           Paul dropped his cigarette and extinguished it with his boot, peering past the damaged doorframe to see what was going on. He saw Patryck and another man around Pat's height, stunning emerald eyes, caramel skin speckled with freckles and dark hazelnut hair. His nametag lazily hanging on had spelled CROW. Not only was his uniform sloppy, but so was his posture. He was hunched over with his arms crossed, tossing a pocket watch back and forth in his hands.

           Patryck seemed comfortable enough around the man to talk to him, Paul unsure if that was a good or bad thing considering Patryck had just exploded on him. "Rob, can you have any empathy for me?" Patryck was clutching a book close to his chest as if it were his final life source. Only pulling it back to tear up at the cover, "I... I miss Tord so much. I miss my family that gave me a will to live."

           "Is Paul not enough?" That's exactly what Paul was wondering! This so-called... 'Rob'....'s tone made it clear that he wasn't trying to make advances on Patryck, so that was one less thing to worry about.

           Defensively, the taller husband opened his mouth to snap, "he is my everything! It's just that Paul doesn't understand how much I need my son." Knives feel offly sharp when they stab that deep into one's throat and Paul would tell you exactly how that felt right now. Never once had he made an effort to show Patryck that he understood, instead he kept trying to brush it off because he himself had moved on. Patryck wasn't Paul.

           Paul needed to start treating his husband like the man he is, and not the man Paul would want him to ideally be. Love was understanding who your partner is and working with them through that, not controlling them and forcing them into a mold of your choice. Oh god dammit, why did this have to be so hard? Why did Patryck have to look so damn pitiful when he was upset? Rob didn't take pity on the tall tree, he only passed a sigh and shrugged, posture growing even sloppier, "I'm sure Paul understands, he just has a funny way of showing it." That was a lie, Paul didn't understand how Patryck was feeling because he hadn't properly tried to until today. Regardless, it was now or never.

           "Patryck!" Paul dashed in, slipping on a pile of dirt and falling back onto his ass. "FUCK-!" 

           "Paul oh my god are you okay?" 

           "No! Tord's back!" he brushed off dirt until he felt Patryck's hands holding tight to Paul's upper arms, "uh, Pat?"

           Ice blue eyes pierced his soul with grief, "where."

-◇-

           "Do you hear that? They are changing my glorious name." He whispered to his enslaved demons, holding their reigns with an iron grip. Dreams of this moment flooded his mind every night up until now, Tord guessed you can say that dreams really do come true if you dream big enough. Leader dying? At his hands? It was almost too good to be feasible. Oh, but it was happening.

           The soldiers around him trampled on each other to find the old hag, avoiding Tord's car with a several foot invisible barrier. He couldn't complain, he'd respect that they were giving him some space but... why? They were mutts. Absolute ruffians. Why have the slightest empathy? They knew Tord, even those who never met the boy heard his tragic story. Without Leader, these mutts become brainless entities wandering without a purpose. Keeping Tord around meant that they had a probable leader if Tord accepted it or not. Basically, he's the new queen of the ants.

           Leader didn't take to long to show his ugly mug,  
his loyalists close to his hip. "What is the meaning of this-?" 

           BANG.

           Back then, Tord would have given anyone the chance to speak. Any villain would of for dramatic effect. It was long overplayed and Leader was a glorified dead end. 

           BANG BANG.

           The slide cut his hand from recoil, but Tord hardly cared. The blood pooling from the old rag in front of him was much more amusing.

           BANG BANG BANG. This still wasn't enough to fill Tord's anger, yes Leader was physically dead, but mentally Tord didn't feel like justice was served.

           BANG.  
That's for my unknown parents.  
           BANG.  
That's for Patryck's night terrors.  
           BANG.9  
That's for Paul's failed efforts.  
           BANG.  
That's for each time you touched me.  
           BANG.  
That's for each time you hurt me.  
           BANG.  
That's for Tom.  
           BANG.  
That's for the dance.  
           BANG.  
That's for the grooming.  
           BANG.   
That's for the unruly god.   
           BANG.  
That's for my demons.  
           BANG.  
That's for your former army.  
           BANG.  
That's for what is now my army.  
           BANG.  
That's for my note-writer.  
           BANG.  
That's for my wasted childhood.  
           BANG.  
That's for the life I left behind.  
           BANG.  
That's for my hunger.  
           BANG.  
That's for nobody.  
           BANG.  
That's for the fun of it.  
           BANG.  
That's for the fact I can't control myself.  
           BANG.  
That's for the memories.  
           BANG.  
That's for me.  
           BANG.  
This is for paradise.

           His arm was burning, and the corpse in front of him was unrecognizable. The Leader-loyalists were gunned down by hyperactive soldiers, as the rest became increasingly more silent as each of the shots rang loud and true. He placed the gun on the ground gently, the crowd backing away from the adrenaline rushed man as stalked towards his freshly killed prey. It made him hungry. Tord wanted to dig into the corpse's organs and devour the fresh meat- but, even a monster like himself had expensive tastes. This corpse wasn't worthy of him. "NOW," he boomed once more, turning to dart back up the roof of his car so the crowd would see his bloodied self once more, "WE ARE UNITED, MY COMRADES. WE ARE NO LONGER HIS PLAYTOY. NOW REPEAT," complete silence had followed. Good... he could continue. 

           "HAIL," pause, "RED LEADER."

           To his fortune, the army sang back to him, "HAIL, RED LEADER." Many of them weren't in perfect sync, but that simple saying was enough to pass by for Tord. He felt accomplished. He felt fuzzy and warm, this was his, all his. This army belonged to him, they would fight and die in his name. He'd ensure they'd rely on him and without Tord, they'd surely die. After all, a colony of insects needed its leader or it would be doomed to perish. He was already Red Leader, he knew this for a fact. But now, it was his leadership that showed this army what it truly should be and what it truly was. 

           Forevermore, "LONG LIVE THE GLORY OF THE RED ARMY."

           Red Leader looked down upon the newborn Red Army as it sang and chanted his great name, the oncoming rain and thunder not phasing their brutal excitement. Children they were under their mother, his guidance being all they need to breathe.  Tonight, the army would celebrate. Tomorrow, beginning a new dawn- because with the morning sun must always bring a productive Red Army.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forever may his enemies rest in agony.


	23. Possible Ending

Hey! It's Pilot! 

Seriously don't panic at the title, I plan to finish the series, but this may be the end of the first book! It's your choice. :)

 

https://www.quotev.com/quiz/11485409/In-reguards-to-This-Side-of-Paradise

Pleaseee go read the poll and give your truthful feedback! Thank you! YOU DO NOT NEED AN ACCOUNT TO PARTICIPATE! :D

 

 

Also if you haven't taken the other poll, now would be a great time to do so or renew responses! Thanks for reading!

-PILOT

FUTURE EDIT: The poll results are pretty clear... so it's been taken down! Thank you for participating and I'll get back to you all very soon.


	24. Goodbye Kisses

Like all good things, even an everlasting Paradise must come to an end. That, or it changes. It morphs and shifts into some twisted reality. Augmented and segmented by viewers and activists. We will never see the same world again, for a paradise is truly a prison we all are held slave to. What we want, isn't truly what is deserved.

Look at the bile,  
give it up and smile.  
While this was his vise,  
he was my paradise.

 

THE ALLIANCE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the ending of "This Side of Paradise."  
> But don't fret, there is more fun to be had!  
> Head to my profile or the series page to find the sequel named "The Alliance!" 
> 
> or, here's the link~!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17307368
> 
> -PILOT

**Author's Note:**

> They say when your 5-year-old son(that nobody can remember the birthday of,) can throw knives better than you, you get him a therapist. Not give him a gun. Apparently, neither Patryck nor Paul understood this information when they found that baby abandoned in the forests of Norway. 
> 
> Well.. Patryck did say he wanted a Norwegian son. Paul is seriously just trying to give Patryck what he wants.
> 
> See what happens when you stick two gay pilots together? You get paradise. 
> 
> Amazing.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Gosh, I'm so bad at this, but I really love feedback good or bad on my work and ways to fix any issues. Please, call me Pilot! Thanks for reading!  
> Check my bio for my social medias! I post a lot about TSOP on my quotev(@/xPatryck)  
> Have an asked? Send it to my Tumblr! @/blindnote


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